


Tricky Trouble

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bullying, M/M, Self-Harm, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 42,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would never be the wet blanket. He didn't allow himself to do so. He wasn't clear if he was happy with that. But at least, he knew he wouldn't regret about it.<br/>“Sure you won’t.” Harry replied slowly, “Because you don’t even know what you've lost.”</p><p>AU where Zayn is a university student, and he never means to involve himself in so many troubles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If this is not the first time you read this story, thank you! Also you might notice I revise some parts of the content. If it is, I hope you enjoy!

Zayn is always that kind of teenager who never spends his time partying or joining any kind of social works. His friends make fun of his sociality all the time. Honestly, he doesn’t hate socializing. But he hates the atmosphere whenever entering a night club. The tacky music, crazy crowd, screaming chicks and drugged dudes.

He is a good actor, though. He never pushes away the alcohol and cigarettes. That’s why he’s still the most welcomed guest in everyone’s party list. Even he doesn’t join much of them, but that’s what he attracts girls. Mystery, they say. It is the most stupid theory that he has ever heard. He doesn’t show up frequently. But when he does, he never brings anyone down.

He doesn’t consider himself as an obedient kid. He’s not a follower of rules. But he hates to make anyone disappointed. “Just fulfills their expectation.” He always convinces himself like that.

This habit didn’t bother him a lot until he passed the entrance exams of two colleges. One was for Business Management, which his parents expected him to get in the most. The other was for Art, his secret interest that nobody knew.

He remembered the day when he got these two mails, he jokingly asked his parents what if he decided to study art. His mother just giggled and kissed softly on his cheek, “Oh dear, don’t give your dad a heart attack.”

He threw the mail in the fireplace that day. Zayn didn’t blame his parents. He understood that would break their hearts and he’d rather choose the other way than making them disappointed.

The day that he’s finally moving to the college wasn’t really an exciting day. He remembered when his mother embraced him tightly and told him how much she’s proud of him, he almost told the truth. But then he saw the happiness on his sisters’ faces, and the tears in his father’s eyes, he knew he had to control it.

As Zayn waved to his family and watched them fading in distance, he understood something in his heart was disappear too.

✸

He didn’t expect the journal would be ended so soon. When he noticed the train was approaching to the station, he just hoped that they would never complete this road. Of course, his wish had no avail.

Zayn called a cab after walking out of the station, fantasizing the plot that he asked the cabbie to take him to the another university and persuade the college to let him in, and finally became the topflight artist in the world, making his parents believe that his decision was right.

He didn’t even finish the dream before the car stopped by the campus. He gave out a big sigh, lifting up the valise, trailing his steps to the dormitory.

His new roommate was already there as he opened the door. A massive bag lay on the floor with clothes and stuffs around disorderly. He stared at the mess and froze in front of it. After a moment, he heard a rapid tread come from the other side of the room. A blonde boy showed up immediately.

“Ah man, I’m sorry! Still arranging these shits.” He kicked out the bag and the items without giving a look at them. “Geeze, this is so troublesome. It might take me centuries to finish them. Anyway, you’re Zayn, right?”

“Yeah.” He answered slowly, “And you are…”

“Niall.” The boy finished his sentence happily with a strong Irish accent, “Oh god, are you excited about this? I mean after waiting a long god damn time, I’m finally here! The uni life!”

Niall cheered in a high voice. Zayn totally had no idea what to respond.

“You know, my mates didn’t believe I’d get in any university. I had shitty grades in high school. But no, they’re ridiculously wrong!” he threw a t-shirt into sky, “I hate studying. But I’d never miss the chance to go to university, guess why?”

“Uh…”

“Because it means freedom and endless parties!!” Niall screamed and started dancing with his pillow, “That’s what I’ve waited for a whole life! I could spend all my times reading boring textbooks just for this moment! It’s Christmas, Zayn.”

Zayn couldn’t get his excitement, so he just replied with an awkward laughter. But Niall didn’t seem to care about it.

“So what’s up mate, any awesome plan for tonight?”

“Well um… I have no idea.” Zayn tried his best give a smile, “I think I’ll settle down my luggage first and probably check the schedule tomorrow-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Niall widened his eyes and glared at him, “This is the first day of your uni life! And you decide to stay at the dorm with those vexatious things? That’s bullshit, man.”

“Hahaha. Thanks but, I think I’m just tired. I seriously need some rest. And I have class tomorrow at 10.”

“I have class at 8.” Niall said deprecatingly. “Where the hell are you from? Don’t take it as an excuse. I came from Ireland and I’m still full of energy now! You’ve got a girlfriend?”

“No…”

“Then holy Jesus just go hook up a hot chick with me! C’mon Zayn, you need to get a life.”

“Kay. But not today alright? I promise I’ll go with you next day.” Zayn finally compromised. Niall wasn’t really satisfied with this answer, but he still agreed on.

Niall kept on talking about his theory of entertainment and life. Zayn just listened to him absent-mindedly while putting his clothes into the closet. The sun came down from the half-opened window, but he couldn’t feel the warmth.

Niall went out in the late evening. He wasn’t hungry at all and he was not in the mood of going out. He tried to kill the time by reading the textbooks, but that just made his mood get even more down. In the end, he shut the books and lay down on the bed till the time closed his eyes.

Next time he opened his eyes was because of his roommate. Niall didn’t even look like he had a crazy party last night. He hummed while putting on his clothes.

“Man what did you do last night? You look even worse than someone has a hangover.” Niall looked at him surprisingly and confusedly. Zayn didn’t know what to say. He just murmur about not adjust with the environment or something else.

He didn’t remember he had breakfast or not. When he’s finally awake, he noticed someone was poking his back. He turned around tiredly. A girl with purple hair and heavy make-up just stood behind him.

“Hi, um, sorry to bother. But do you know where I can find room B-17? I think I’m lost.” She smiled, without any awkwardness on her face.

“Well I’m new to here too.” He said, but then he found the classroom number familiar. “Wait, are you taking marketing class too? I think we’re classmates.”

“Really? That’d be great. We can find the room together.” She flipped her eye-catching hair casually, “I’m Perrie. Mind having your name?”

“Zayn.” He answered.

On the way to the classroom, Perrie just raised her head and gazed at him.

“Something bothers you?”

“Pardon?” He looked at her in confusion.

“I don’t know. You seem to be unhappy. What’s that for?”

“Girls are sensitive.” He laughed, “You think too much. I’m just tired. I think I have a little bit homesick so I couldn’t sleep well last night.”

“Oh, you homeboy.” She giggled, “I feel bad to say that but I’m really glad I can finally leave home. Guess what, this is the first day I wear make-up. My mum controls me a lot. I couldn’t even wear a dress I like around her. Last night I went dying my hair, shopping, and my roommate Jade taught me how to do make-up. It was like the best night ever.”

She put a light smile on her face, “I love her. But she can’t offer what I want. I might break her heart. But I just want to be myself, even it’s only once…oh, I think I see the number!”

The classroom gave him a good chance to hide from Perrie’s words. He couldn’t tell if she had guessed what was in his mind. Perrie had walked away to greet her friends. He covered himself in the shadow of the corner, paying no attention to what professor said.

✸

He couldn’t focus on the class after talking with Perrie. When the bell rang, he suddenly realised his notebook was still empty. The professor was cleaning the blackboard. He had no choice but left the room.

He checked his schedule, and gladly to see the next class was British Literature. It would probably be his favourite class. He was deciding to choose Art History but the class was already full. Because of that, this class would probably be the only one he didn’t have to struggle.

Zayn came to the class earliest. He couldn’t wait for the class to start. He stared at the clock above the blackboard, hoping the time could get any faster.

The lunch time was over. Students were coming into the classroom gradually. He still sat in the corner, and that made him look clear everyone’s face. He saw Perrie come into class too. He hid his face with the notebook, but he spotted something at the same time.

A boy with messy curls walked into the class lazily. He wore a pair of white earphones, mouthing the songs randomly. He was tall, but had a baby face which looked younger than any other person in the room. His green eyes were dimming in sleep. It seemed like he just got up from a quick nap. Zayn watched him put down his bag and sit next to a girl with a bun. He was wondering what caught his sight, until he noticed something abnormal.

His earphones didn’t even plug in the iPod.

Zayn rubbed his eyes again and again, trying to convince himself he took a mistake. Not only him, but also people around that boy now all glared at him. But the curly one still held his chin, singing the songs from nowhere.

He couldn’t help himself but keeping taking a look at the boy’s seat. He’s still there with his earphone on, as if he didn’t know where he was. The girl next to him stood up and put a mirror out of her bag. All of sudden, the boy just bounced off the chair like he just got an electric shock.

“Can I ask you a question?” He talked to the girl. She stopped her action and stared at him in confusion and aversion. “What?”

The boy didn’t reply rightly. Instead, he turned around and gazed at her bun for a moment. The girl looked scared, but he started talking again when she was going to run away.

“Do you know the height of it?”

“What the-”

“3.2 inches. You brushed your hair and tied it tightly on your head. It’s harmful your scalp. Second, the weight of that thingy hurts your neck too. If you have that on your head everyday, you’ll probably get serious pain in your spine one day.”

The girl was totally stunned, standing there with her mouth half-opened. Some students standing around were also having the same facial expression.

“Just friendly reminder.” Noticing she didn’t reply, the boy uttered.

“Bo-boring!” the girl finally yelled out, “Wh-what’s the fuck wrong with you? Oh my god!” she dragged her bag and ran away to another as soon as possible.

The coming of the professor blocked their attention of this accident. He started to introduce himself and the course. After the ten-minute introduction, he passed some test paper to the students.

“I just want to know how much you understand about British Literature. Please take it easy. It’s not a quiz or exam. Just do your best and tell me what you think about.”

The class turned into silence with only the sound of pen and paper. Zayn looked down at the questions. A smile came on to his face. He knew he’s gonna love this class.

While doing the question about Hamlet, he raised up his head to take a break. When he was ready to continue, his sight went down on that boy again. Because he was still in that position, holding his chin and staring at the professor.

The professor sensed his sight, looking back to him bewilderedly. “Uh…any problem?”

“Na na.” The boy replied curtly.

“Then keep going on, kid.”

“Well but I’ve finished it, sir.” There’s a strange tone in his voice. Sort of raspy, along with cheeky.

The professor frowned, standing up and walking toward his desk. He took up the boy’s paper. Zayn could see a complicated expression on his face. There were stun, confusion, curiosity and a bit anger. But then he started to chuckle.

“Okay…This is cool. What’s your name, son?”

The boy responded in a deep voice. “Harry. Harry Styles.”


	2. Chapter 2

“That class was great, wasn’t it?”

Perrier popped up beside him when the class was over. She watched Zayn arranging his stuffs and continued, “But I wasn’t sure about the part about Charlotte Brontë and Currer Bell, did they- 

“They are the same person.” Zayn replied while putting his pencil case into his bag, “Currer Bell was the pen name that Brontë used for herself.” He turned around and walked down the stairs with Perrie. “But I prefer Jane Austen’s pen name.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“ ‘A lady.’ ” 

Someone answered the question before Zayn did. Harry passed by them, but his sight didn’t even put on them. He was taking picture of a dead bug on the desk with his phone. While decorating the photo with some LOMO effects, he kept going on: “She is cool. But Brontë disliked her and took her as shit. And it’s funny cos _Jane Eyre_ is totally a comedy.”

“What?!” Perrie was shocked by his words, “ _Jane Eyre_ is such a classic! She perfectly described the shadow and light in life. And the love between Jane and Mr. Rochester is legendary. Just read all the challenge and sadness they had been through, don’t you dare to said they are-”

“…funny as hell.” Harry tossed his phone into the air, and caught it with another hand. Perrie stuttered in anger, watching him walked out the room madly. 

As they left the classroom, Perrie couldn’t help but started complaining to Zayn. He didn’t respond. To be honest, he was not really into Brontë and _Jean Eyre_. On the contrast, he really appreciated the  humour in Austen’s novels. Her words were exquisite, but not too heavy to enjoy nor too hard to understand. Reading her works made him feel pleasure. However, Perrie was totally a big fan of Brontë. In that situation, Zayn chose to stay quiet.

“Hey Zayn!” He heard a familiar voice behind him. Niall was running toward him excitedly. Perrie saw him coming. So she waved to Zayn and said goodbye. Niall stopped and checked her out with a strange face till she walked away, then he turned back to Zayn, “Looks like somebody has taken my advice huh?”

“It’s not what you think.” He pushed Niall away but the blonde boy was still giggling. To change the topic, he asked, “Are you hungry? I skipped lunch and I’m up for dinner now.”

“Hell yes. I’m always starving, man!” Niall replied with a cheer.

This successfully made him skip this awkward question. During the way, Niall kept grumbling the boring classes he took today and telling him how amazing the party was last night. 

“If I were you, I would probably cry in bed now regretting for missing such an incredible party.” His voice was full of pleasure, recalling the views joyfully. “I met some awesome guys too and I definitely think you should meet. I’ll love them too.”

Zayn was still silent. So Niall kept on describing the new friends he got. “They were both sophomore. Liam was nice to everyone. He introduced every freshman about the school and the college life. I really thought he was the most wonderful person in the world before he got serious drunk and swore something I haven’t even heard in my life.”

He gave out a big laughter and continued, “And Louis, holy crap you’ll never find someone cooler than him. There’s no party would be perfect without him. At first I thought the party would be full of alcohols, drugs and sex. But he just came up with so many fun stuffs that could blow the roof. What a pity that you weren’t there! ”

Zayn just smiled. He did think Niall would be a great friend of him. He’s carefree, outgoing and thoughtful even though it wasn’t quite obviously. Zayn knew he would be in the same party with Niall very soon. He wouldn't let him down.

The cafeteria had already been crowded. They finally found a seat near to the window. Niall’s plate looked like a little food mountain. Zayn wasn’t really hungry. But since he had lied to Niall, he still filled his plate reluctantly.

“So did you make any new friend today? Except for that Barbie doll?” Niall asked as Zayn tried to swallow a sandwich that Niall pushed to him. He shook his head slightly, trying to ignore the sarcasm hidden in the sentence. “No. Apart from forcing to talk and having my sandwiches, I rarely open my mouth today. ”

Niall laughed out loud. “Oh c’mon dude, you need to be more open-minded. University is such a good place to expand your friend circle. You can’t always lock yourself in your own room.”

“Yeah I’m still trying. And learning.”

“You should.” Niall put another hamburger in his mouth, “So, maybe you can talk about whom you’re forced to talk to.”

Zayn wasn’t certain about what exactly he should say. Other than Niall and Perrie, he had no idea who had interacted with him today. But then Niall put out his iPod to play games, which soon reminded him of someone.

“Well there’s a guy-”

However, before he started, the person he was going to talk about just walked in the cafeteria.

Harry took a look at the room like a tourist, and took out his phone, taking picture for the menu. Then he headed toward the snack bar. It seemed like he just ordered something unbelievable because the clerk looked shocked and confused.

“Is it a joke, boy?” The old lady questioned with suspicion.

“Yes ma’am.” Harry replied and put his earphone on again. Without plugging-in, of course.

The old lady hesitated for a second, and then kneed down to get something out of the fridge. When she stood up, there were about 30 milk cartons on the plate.

“Thank you. Have a nice day.” Harry carried the milks and walked to a table which had already been taken by a few students. He sat down between a boy and a girl. All the people in that seat look at each other in confusion, trying to figure out if he was a friend of one of them. Then they just stood up and leaved the table as he was someone dangerous.

Noticing Zayn’s dazed face, Niall followed his sight and turned his head. When he realised what happened, he just chuckled and said, “Ah, it’s everyone’s friend, Harry.”

“You know him?”

“Not really. We joined the same camp last summer. Everyone knew he was a weird child. He always acted strangely. I remembered he ruined the dinner of his group at the first night. He put a fresh banana into their soup and asked why there’s nobody invented banana soup. His group members all freaked out.” Recalling the situation, Niall couldn’t stop laughing. “Some people said he’s a psycho. Some said he’s autistic. But you know what? He’s jump-year student. This is super crazy.”

“He was in the British Literature class with me.” Zayn watched Harry drinking the milk one by one, the empty cartons were around his feet. “And he successfully annoyed two girls with words I don’t even understand.”

“That’s typical Harry.” Niall said while finishing his last burger, “He’s probably gonna build a milk carton tower to praise the virtue of cows and I won’t be surprised at it. He only lives his little world. Saying about that, I’m worried you’ll become like him. That will be a tragedy.”

“I’m way more normal!” Zayn retorted, throwing a potato chip to him.

After the dinner, Zayn decided to go to the library. The class made him start missing the books he had read before. He made up his mind to review all of them. So he waved to Niall and proceeded to the building.

The library was larger than he expected. He felt like he just found paradise. He planned to spend 20 minutes to find the books he wanted, but it ended up taking him one and half an hour. When he left the library, there were a bunch of books in his arms. Not only the novels, but also some related to traditional art.

However, those heavy books were stressing him out. And it also blocked his vision to the road. While going back to the dormitory, he almost tripped by something on the ground. 

“What the hell…?” When he looked clear what it was, he couldn’t help but utter.

That was an empty milk carton.

This was the most terrible joke he had ever heard, Zayn thought. He murmured some complaint and kicked the carton away.

“Hey.” An unhappy voice came from a short distance. Zayn didn’t need to look up because he was very sure whom it belonged to.

Harry stared at him dissatisfiedly. His position was like Zayn’s, holding lots of things in his arms. But instead of books, there were only milk cartons.

“Please kick it back. I took time to find the best place.”

“For what?” Zayn asked in doubt. He couldn’t understand what these rubbishes were for. “Are you gonna plan flowers, or keep a goldfish in it?”

“It’s an experiment.” He answered calmly. Zayn couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious. “I want to know in what situation people will pick up the trashes on the ground willingly. For example, this place is a little garden which couples like to wander around. They might want to show the good side in front of their lovers because they are stupid.”

Zayn was dumfounded. He didn’t know if Harry was kidding or not. “So you’re going to write an essay about it?”

“Nope, just to satisfy my curiosity.” Harry replied while adjusting the position of the cartons. 

“Not trying to be rude, but what’s the point of it?” Zayn frowned and asked again. Harry looked up at him, giving him a question in reply, “Haven’t you ever been curious about some problem that no one could give you an answer? Like, what would it be if you send a cat into the space, or why the glue won’t stick inside the bottle?”

Zayn wide opened his eyes, “No.”

“Wow it sounds like you have a boring life.”

Harry kept on placing the cartons. Zayn could understand nothing he was talking about. So he decided to leave like everyone’s reaction to Harry. But Harry interrupted him before he turned away.

“Stop there. Don’t move.” He stood up and put his phone out of his pocket, quickly taking a picture of Zayn.

“…Is this another experiment?”

“I like your hair.” Harry gave him an irrelevant answer. 

“Should I be flattered?”

“I like to collect cool stuffs by photos.” Harry still ignored his questions, “So they would be unforgettable.”

Zayn remembered the same things he did in the classroom and the cafeteria. “Are dead bug and cafeteria menu also counted?”

“There are so many special things around you but most of you never pay attention, or just neglect it. That bug lost one of its legs. And it was from the middle of its belly. This is hard to come by. And they forgot to put the ‘d’ in ‘sandwich’ on that menu.” He showed Zayn the photo on his Instagram, with a comment under it. (“Looks like someone didn’t get the d?”)

Zayn was speechless, wondering what comment Harry would add about his hair. He stood at the same place, watching Harry doing his work.

“Mark Twain.” Harry pointed at his books and said.

“Yeah.” Zayn shrugged, “He’s an interesting guy. I like his writings. They always make me feel better.”

“He’s funny. But he hated Austen. So I don’t like him.” Harry said while hiding a carton in grass.

Zayn looked down at him disconnectedly, “You’re a hardcore Austen lover, aren’t you? Just because Charlotte Brontë and Mark Twain didn’t like her, so you don’t like them?”

“Just because they are classic writers doesn’t mean I have to be their fans.” Harry’s voice turned into that deep and raspy tone again, “I know they were great writers. But I love Austen more. She’s sassy and she got the attitude. They made fun of her works. And that annoyed me.”

Zayn couldn’t come up with anything to refute. So he just gave himself a deep breath, and walked away.

“I’m Harry.”

Harry’s voice came from his back. He wasn’t sure if he should respond or not. Finally, he sighed and turned around.

“Zayn.”


	3. Chapter 3

The weekend came faster than a flash. Though Zayn had avoided the party invitations from Niall several times, but he couldn’t come up with any good excuse on weekends. Especially this was just the first week of their college lives. It was not possible for him to have lots projects and texts to prepare.

As Niall came back to the dorm with a big smile on his face, he soon realised what he was going to talk about.

“It’s finally Friday!” Niall acclaimed, not noticing his roommate is pulling a long face, “Man I’ve waited for today since the school started.”

“Ahaha.” Zayn gave him a dry laughter, “That sounds good. You can finally take a rest now.”

Hearing his words, Niall put on a big smile and walked toward him. “And tonight will be much more special and awesome! Guess why?”

Even though he had already known the answer, Zayn still prayed inside and asked, “Really? Why?”

“Because you’re gonna join us tonight!!!” Niall hailed, “You’re available tonight right? You promised me?”

Niall looked at him excitedly. Zayn knew this time he had no chances to absolve Niall’s request. So he tried to hide the sigh and nodded with a friendly smile.

“BRAVO!!” The blonde boy exclaimed, “I’m pretty sure you’ll love it. I mean, who doesn’t like Friday night parties?”

“Yeah,” Zayn watched Niall dancing with his pillow, giving out a deep sigh, “who doesn’t?”

✸

Although Zayn promised to join the party with Niall, he actually had no idea when and where the party would be held. Niall left the room after making sure Zayn would come and didn’t come back until 9 pm. Zayn had already been starving. As he finally decided to get some food, Niall rushed into the room and yelled, “Let’s go man! Woo hoo I can’t wait!”

Even though Zayn was terribly hungry and not in the mood of partying, he still made an excited sound as respond. He noticed there were some crumbs on Niall’s collar. Apparently his roommate had a pre-party for himself.

“Nando’s has a buy one get one free discount today. So I went there to get some awesome Peri-Peri chicken. I was deciding to bring you some but when I noticed that, I had already finished them. I’m sorry man.” Niall told him while they were walking down the stairs, “You know it is really hard to insist their seduction, I mean, just feel the smell, and you can imagine the wonderful taste in your mouth…”

“Well, where are we going to?” To stop Niall from making him much hungrier, Zayn cut his sentence and asked. But Niall just shrugged and smiled, “I don’t know either.”

Zayn turned his head and looked at Niall in confusion, “What?”

Niall laughed, “Well, remember I told you about Louis and Liam? They are the coolest guys I’ve ever seen. I was lucky to be their new friend. When they invite you to join a party, you would never know where it is, or what it is.”

“Then how do we—”

His question was soon answered after they walked out of the building.

Two shining convertibles stopped by the gate, with a few cool guys and hot girls in. They were playing rock music loudly. One guy put off his sunglasses, looking at Niall and yelled, “You’re Niall? Get in ladies, we’re gonna gave the best night ever.”

The other boys exclaimed. The girls giggled happily, winking at Niall and Zayn. Their false eyelashes were almost dropped.

Zayn looked at those people vaguely and muttered, “I didn’t expect this.”

“Me neither!” Niall screamed excitedly, “Oh my god, I can’t wait for this! Told you they are the coolest guys in the world! Now listen mate, since this is your fist time, I’ll let you sit with ladies. You’re welcome!”

Zayn stared at those girls in miniskirts and corsets who were now trying to show off their laps and sighed. He’d rather stay with Perrie the whole night talking about her mother and her new nail polish than squeeze in the same car with some crazy Barbie dolls.

✸

After a few minutes, which made Zayn feel like a century long, they finally approached the pub where the party was held. As soon as the car stopped, Zayn jumped off from it immediately as if he was attacked by a group of mob. Instead, Niall looked like he had never been so delighted before.

“I haven’t even joined the party yet, but I’ve already felt so hyper!” said Niall.

“Me too.” Zayn replied absent-mindedly, “Where are the guys you talked about?”

“Be patient. I’ll show you.”

Although Zayn could tell it would take them a long time to struggle through the crowd, it was still harder than his imagination. Niall couldn’t help himself but kept stopping to get more food. What’s worse, there were always some creepy bunny girls popping up around him.

“NO,” he yelled at one of the girls as he tried to escape from their grabbing, “I don’t want that shit on my face, get your hands off me.”

A girl with pink hair burst out into laughter, still trying to draw a heart on his face with a lipstick.

Drowning in the heat for about half an hour, he eventually heard Niall calling out.

“Louis! Liam!”

Niall waved to some people in a distance. Zayn raised his head and looked at the direction that Niall was pointing at. But before he looked clear, Niall had grabbed his arm and ran through the crowd. After bombing into a lot of sweaty girls and being attacked by a plate of biscuits, they finally approached the hosts.

“Guys! This is my roommate Zayn. I’ve told you before! Zayn, this is Liam, and Louis.” Niall introduced for them. One of the boys stood up from the sofa and put out his hand to Zayn.

“I’m Liam Payne. Nice to meet you Zayn.”

Zayn wore on a smile and came forward to shake his hand. Just like Niall’s description, Liam looked like a really nice guy. His smile was warm and friendly, making no distance with people even they just met. Liam was just like the friend that you could chat with about your vexations all night long and would give you real advice instead of shitty comments. It’s hard to believe that he was that kind of person who partied every single night and would be furious when he got drunk.

Another boy walked toward Zayn as well, extending his hand with another holding a glass of liquid. “Oh I’m Louis, Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis was just totally the kind of cool kids that made every girl fall for him and made every boy question their existence. Zayn could tell he had probably been a party king since 13. Louis’ attitude was something he would never learn. Zayn could now understand why Niall adored this guy so much, and how come he could make people drive convertibles to pick them up.

“Be my guests, boys. Just go get whatever you like on the table. My treat.” Louis turned around and showed them the plentiful food on the tables. Niall screamed excitedly. But it was too hard for Zayn to fall in love with those cakes with mystery fluorescein even though he was starving to death.

“So Zayn, why didn’t you join our parties the past week? That’s a pity.” Liam sat down next to him and asked.

“Well…um…I’m just too busy.” Zayn took a strawberry pie from the plate. But then the juice started rolling down as if the pie was bleeding. Zayn tried hard to swallow the disgusted sound he almost made, and put the pie back gently.

“I completely don’t understand what he was busy with!” Niall said while putting the scary pie which Zayn just put down into his mouth, “He barely talk to other people! He’s gonna become next Harry Styles!”

Zayn just sipped a glass of lemonade and almost choked, “I’m not gonna be him. Never.”

Hearing their conversation, Liam couldn’t help but laugh. “Harry…Harry is an interesting kid. Right, Louis?” he nudged Louis’s arm with his elbow.

“Ugh, he’s odd.” Louis replied curtly.

“You guys know him as well?” Zayn asked surprisedly.

“Not really,” said Liam, “But he’s kinda… famous in the college. I think Louis know him better, aren’t you, Lou?”

Louis played the cherry in his glass, answering slowly, “Well… I thought I knew him.”

Zayn was confused by his answer. But when he tried to ask more, a girl with long wavy hair cut their conversation put her arms around Louis’ neck.

“Baby! You had fun?” Louis left a kiss on her cheek. She giggled happily and replied, “I did! Wanna meet my new friend Perrie? She’s such a cool girl.”

“You sure? Won’t you get jealous?” Louis chuckled and pulled her in his arms, kissing her again and then looked at Zayn, “My, girlfriend, Eleanor. Baby, this is Zayn. I’m not really willing to introduce you guys, ‘cause he’s hot.”

Eleanor laughed and tapped her boyfriend’s head. Zayn had no idea how to react, so he just gave an awkward smile and said, “Well… I know Perrie too.”

“Really?” She blinked her eyes, “So… are you guys like, hooking out or something?”

Niall responded before he tried to deny, “Nah El, I bet he’s gonna date Harry soon. I mean, their tones are so close.”

“Say that again I’m gonna punch you!” Zayn shouted embarrassedly, and everyone just kept laughing hard.

The party got boring to Zayn really soon. As soon as Louis left with Eleanor, Liam’s girl Danielle showed up from nowhere as well. He apologised for the leaving, and then went to have fun with his girlfriend too. And Niall was also busy “dating” his food. The atmosphere made Zayn really uncomfortable. Besides, he was extremely hungry. But he would rather die than eating the horrible food there. So he sneaked out the pub as Niall went picking more food.

He stopped a taxi and answered his college’s name when the driver asked for the destination. He was exhausted. He didn’t even want to get anything to eat now but just sleep.

When he finally went back to the school, it was already middle night. He sang along with the bell ring, giving out a deep sigh when the sound stopped. And then his eyes caught a flash under a tree.

He slowly stepped toward the white light, and was almost shocked.

“Hi.”

Harry lied under the tree, playing game with his phone. He didn’t look at Zayn, and wasn’t even surprised by his appearing.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Zayn asked harshly.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit troublesome and pointless to find a reason for everything you do? Like, I’m doing this is because I want to. That’s it.” Harry answered emotionlessly, still concentrated on his phone.

Giving up would probably be easier, Zayn thought. “Whatever.” He murmured, walking away before getting more trouble for himself.

“Doritos?” asked Harry.

“What?”

Harry reached him a pack of Doritos, keeping playing Candy Crush with his left hand.

“I’m… I’m not hungry.” Zayn lied, but then his stomach betrayed him.

“Oh you’d better.” said Harry. Zayn knew his face must turn red now. He looked at that seductive snack, finally gave in to his hunger.

For a while, there was only the sound of munching, and the sound effects of the game. Zayn watched Harry pass every level quietly. He noticed Harry put on the earphones again. And, of course, still no plug in.

“Why you put your earphones that way?” As Zayn finished his unhealthy dinner, he broke the long silence.

“Well,” Harry replied very slowly, he was getting trouble with some chocolate, “I can hear it.”

“Hear what?”

Harry didn’t answer. He was struggling to clean those jellies before out of moves. After another long silence, Zayn was deciding to leave, but then Harry stopped him again.

“Lie down.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.” Harry’s eyes were still stuck on the screen. Zayn hesitated for a moment, but still followed his words. “Why—”

Harry put out one of the earphone, and handed it to Zayn. “Just listen.”

Although Zayn had a lot of questions, he put on the earphone anyway, and prayed no one would catch him lying beside the strangest student in the college.

He looked up to the sky, realising he hadn’t watched those stars for a while. When he was little, he always climbed up to the roof, creating his own star signs, writing his own stories about them.

He loved stars. They were just like thousands of eyes looking after him. They wouldn’t comfort him when he was down. But they also wouldn’t judge, or laughing at his problems. Whenever he saw them watching him again, he could feel better immediately. And this was a little secret of him even he had grown up a lot.

“You heard anything?” Harry asked whispery.

“No. Nothing.”

“Not surprising.” said Harry, a little bit disappointment was hidden in his voice.

Somehow, Zayn found a kind of comforting from Harry. He didn’t understand him at all. And he’d probably never do. But this distance kept them close in other way. Like the stars up there, he would never touch them, but he could feel their warmth and brightness.

The light of the screen suddenly disappeared. He could hear Harry’s regular breathing. Harry held his phone, putting his hand on his chest. Zayn looked at his sleeping face, wondering what the music that only Harry could hear was.

He closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Zayn woke up with a serious headache. He struggled to get out of the quilts which seemed to be heavier than before. He picked up his phone on the table. It’s almost noon. The fragrance of grass was still stuck on his clothes.

He got off his bed, trying to figure out how he got back to the room. As he was wondering, Niall’s voice came aloud from the other side of room.

“Morning Zayn! I hope you’re good. It looks like you had a hangover!” Niall looked energetic as usual, giving him a glass of water. “Josh and I found you under a tree around the media building. Gee how many glasses did you drink last night? I didn’t even know when you came back to the college. Thank God we found you before you got famous! Ha ha!”

Zayn widely opened his eyes, stuttering in shock, “Wait… Was I there like… alone? Without anyone with me?”

Niall looked at him in confusion, “Of course! Or who else did you expect to be with you? Hot blondies? ”

Zayn didn’t reply. He was kind of mad at the fact that Harry left without waking him up. But in the other hand, he was also gratified with his luck that nobody knew that he was lying under a tree with Harry last night. He glanced at Niall, imaging how he would react if he found out the truth. He would rather being teased by being drunk for the rest of his life then letting everyone know about this.

But somehow the scene of Harry sleeping beside him peacefully suddenly came in his mind. He could still remember how his messy mind finally got a break from a long time, under the starlight and his old memories, and Harry’s temperature on his skin.

“FOR HELL’S SAKE NO!”

He splashed the water on the floor threw himself back to the bed with a loud whine, ignoring Niall’s protest and complaining.

✸

The following days flashed by peacefully. Niall probably considered the reason why Zayn refused to join all the parties was because he was not good at drinking, so he stopped inviting Zayn to participate with him. This beautiful mistake made Zayn relieve. He could finally get times to finish the books he borrowed from library.

But this placid life was soon being ruined again when it came to British Literature class again. Thinking about seeing Harry again, he couldn’t help and feeling headache.

As he always did, Zayn went to the class early, sitting on his favourite seat. He was deciding to finish reading Brand New Word before the class started, he heard someone calling his name.

“Zayn! Hello!”

A girl with pink hair ran to him happily. Zayn was confused at first, then he soon recognised who she was.

“Hi Perrie,” he greeted her, “Nice hair.”

“Thanks! ” Perrie flipped her hair, giggling confidently, “Eleanor said pink fit me better than purple. So I dyed my hair again last night and as you see, it’s successful! She has the best taste in fashion isn’t she? I’m possibly gonna die because of too much chemistry but haha, I ain’t giving a shit.”

“Your mum would kill you if she sees you in this way!” Zayn laughed and said.

“True. But man if I have to be only what she likes, it’s the same as being dead. Hahaha, love you mum!” She blew a kiss into the air.

Zayn smiled. He liked Perrie. She’s funny, smart and independent. And to be honest, he was a bit jealous of her. She never cared about how people looked or expected on her. And she didn’t want to be what others wanted her to be but herself. To him, this was probably what Zayn could never do.

‘At least she’s being special.’ He thought, ‘not being a strange weirdo— ’

“Hiiiiiiiiii.”

A familiar voice suddenly appeared. Zayn was astonished for a moment. He raised his head slowing, wishing it was not the person he thought of.

“I was wondering when you are going to return Seven Pillars of Wisdom to the library.” Harry said while eating a banana in his hand, “I’ve been waiting for a while.”

“I…wait, how did you know—”

“Of course I know you borrowed that book,” he had another bite on the banana, “I saw you holding it. Just at the night we met.”

Some classmates were turning their heads to look at them. Zayn knew he must look very embarrassed right now. He didn’t want anyone to know he had a connection with Harry. “Well… if you want to read it immediately, I can lend you now… I’m not reading it at this time.”

“Thanks mate. Did you bring it with you?” He started licking the banana as if it was an ice cream. Zayn tried not to pay attention on it.

“No… it’s in my room.”

Harry stopped for a second. Zayn prayed desperately that he wouldn’t ask to go to his room. “Not cool.” Said Harry, “But well, you can give it to me after the class. I’ll be waiting by the tree.”

“What tree?” He soon regretted after asking so.

“The tree that we slept under together at Friday night.” Harry replied slowly while swallowing the whole banana.

Now Zayn was pretty sure that everyone in the classroom was looking at them. He could hear Perrie uttered a loud “What?!” and burst out into laughter. Harry didn’t seem to be aware what’s going on there. He was trying to make the banana peel into a flower. Zayn ignored those giggling girls in the front row, squeezing the word from his mouth, “…ok.”

“Fantastic.” Harry replied absently. “See you later then.”

As he watched Harry walking back to his seat, Zayn swore he would never talk to Harry again if unnecessary.

✸

Zayn prayed inwardly that Harry would forget about their appointment as soon as possible or just disappeared to nowhere. Unfortunately, as he sneaked out the building, he spotted Harry that tree right away.

Harry was leaning on the trunk playing his phone again. He sensed Zayn and raised his head. Zayn didn’t have the time to look away or pretend not noticing his existence, so he sighed and nodded at him as a promise. Harry just shrugged.

He went back to the dorm. He’s glad that Niall hadn’t come back yet. He wasn’t sure if Niall had already heard about what happened in the British Literature class and he didn’t want to take his time clarify it. So he just reached his bookshelf, trying to find that god damn book while complaining why there was only one copy in the library.

The weather was pretty hot. That little fan beside his feet didn’t help at all. He was all sweaty but still couldn’t find the book. He nearly cleaned up the whole shelf, but there wasn’t that heavy book with claret cover. Five minutes later, he decided to change his target into everything else in the room. His bed, his desk, his bag, and even Niall’s (he soon gave up on it though because it looked like it just had a battle there).

“Where the fuck are you, Lawrence?!” he muttered, blaming on the author recklessly.

Now great, Zayn thought. He lost an important book from the school library which might cost him a huge amount of money and he had to explain to his parents where had his money gone. Also, Harry would probably be around him all day complaining—

Harry.

Zayn took a quick look on his watch. It’s already been half an hour since Harry started waiting for him. No matter how weird Harry was, it still made Zayn guilty to stand him up for so long. He didn’t want to just show up and tell Harry that he couldn’t find the book after leaving him alone under the blazing sun. However, he still had no clue where the book was.

He ran to the window, trying to figure out if Harry was still there. And then the door was opened.

“It’s sooooooo damn hot today! I’m melting like an ice cream.” said Niall as he walked in with a real ice cream in hands, “Oh God man, you look as if you just fell into the lake!”

Zayn replied him with a hasty greeting, checking his closet carefully again. Noticing what he was doing, Niall asked concernedly, “What’s wrong? You seem in panic.”

“I am.” Said Zayn, “I can’t find the book I borrowed from library. ”

“What is it?”

“Seven Pillars of Wisdom.” Zayn closed the door harshly, “Only if you know where it is.”

“I do though.” Unexpectedly, Niall replied. Zayn turned rapidly, Niall was as surprised as him. “I borrowed from you in the morning. Mrs. Clark made us to bring a book today, so I asked you if you could lend me.”

The memories flashed back as Niall talked. Zayn remembered Niall asking him something while he was getting dressed, but he didn’t pay attention to it and answered “sure” to everything.

“Uh…yeah…I forgot it.” Zayn replied awkwardly, accepting the book from Niall who was laughing loudly, then ran down the stairs immediately.

The tree wasn’t far away from the dorm, but now the distance was like from London to Hawaii. It looked like he would never approach the little green spot. Finally, he reached the tree as he almost fell on the grass.

Harry was sitting on a rock, still playing his mobile. He looked at Zayn with a bit surprise in his eyes.

“Hmm„” he watched Zayn gasping for air, “That was very efficient of you.”

“I…couldn’t…find…it.” said Zayn while trying to breathe. “I thought…you would…just…leave.”

Harry stood up, replying as Zayn handed him the book. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“I promised…you.” said Zayn, “I never break a promise.”

The curly boy stopped his motion and looked at Zayn, speaking slowly, “You know you don’t have to be nice to me.”

“What—”

“I mean,” he put the book in his bag. “You don’t like me.”

“I like you.” Zayn replied really quickly, which shocked both himself and Harry. Embarrassment climbed up to his face, he stuttered and trying to make it clear, “Ugh…what I said is, I don’t dislike you. Like…some of the stuffs you do are um… cool. Just, really cool.”

Harry froze in confusion for a second, and then he started laughing, which Zayn had never seen.

“…I didn’t even know you have other facial expression.”

“You’re funny.”Harry giggled like a high school girl. It’s like he hadn’t been so happy in his life.

“So…” Zayn asked randomly, “How was your experiment?”

Harry put off the smile and turned into the normal Harry again. “Failed. Steve cleaned them all before somebody picked one up. He was really mad at me. ”

“Steve?”

“The caretaker. ”

Zayn blinked,“I don’t even know his name. ”

“Me neither. I named him. ”

“What?!”

While going back to the dorm, Zayn couldn’t help but turned and watched Harry walking down the lawn alone. He recalled the words he said. Maybe, maybe he did like Harry. Even though it was not even a friendship, or anything more.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the impressive interlude during the British Literature class, the incident wasn’t as widespread as Zayn worried about. And it was all thank to the arrival of football season.

Zayn had been looking forward to this event for such a long time. It’s not because he was a big fan of football. It’s that when people were gathering around the field, he could enjoy his own moment in the library, or even sneaked into the School of Art, taking a look at those classrooms that he could have stepped in, and those works on the wall made by people who could have been his classmates.

However, as he anticipated, his Irish roommate was not a big fan of partying, but also a fanatic of football.

“Oh man you will definitely regret it if you don’t go with me!” Niall kept jumping around him in the school team jacket, “Louis has got us the best area to watch. The game tonight will decide who can enter the semifinal. You just can’t miss it! Please please?”

Niall’s enthusiasm made Zayn hesitate for a while, but he still give him an apologetic smile and pointed at the books on his desk. “Sorry, I have too many projects to finish. Tell me about the game when you’re back?”

“What a pity, but alright! Good luck with your works mate!” Niall pouted and tapped Zayn’s shoulder. When he turned around to get his bag, Zayn noticed there was a strange pattern on Niall’s face.

“What’s that on your…?”

“Oh you mean this? Showing my supporting!” Niall leaned in, showing Zayn the awful drawing of the school badge of his face. A weird sound escaped from Zayn’s mouth when he tried to cover the laughter.

Noticing his reaction, Niall continued a bit embarrassedly, “Yeah I know it sucks! But my passion is more important!”

“It’s awesome man. It’s totally the Horan style.” said Zayn as they both laughed, “Just make the lines clear… ”

He picked the brush, fixing the pattern cautiously. Minutes later, the childlike painting magically became a delicate tattoo. Niall stared at his reflection in the mirror, stuttering in surprise and admiration, “This is sick man! How did you do that? You should be an art student instead!”

“Thanks.” Zayn replied with a dim smile, “I think you should go now. You can’t be late!”

Guilty climbed up to his mind after Niall walked out the room. Zayn stepped toward the window and took a glance. He could see a crowd of people with flags and cheering sticks going to enjoy the excitement together. For a moment, he wanted to run out the room and catch up Niall to tell him he changed his mind. But instead, he just stood there until the delightful sounds were fading.

It was not that Zayn wasn’t into football. Like boys in the same age, he was definitely the kind of guy that would stay up late to watch live broadcasts of his favourite team. If he could have a chance to watch a game in a stadium, there’s no way that he’d choose to do his papers at home.

But somehow he just couldn’t make himself into anything here. He did like Niall and his crew. He also appreciated how his lovely roommate tried to get him involve in every interesting actives. However, it’s like the more he convinced himself to get into the event, the more he felt tired of them all.

Finally he took back his sight from the window. Those literatures on his desk weren’t attractive to him at the moment. So he ended up walked out the door, heading to the School of Art again since that was the only place in this campus that he didn’t belong to, but could feel the sense of belonging.

He avoided all the people who might ask him to join watching the game, sneaking in the garden behind the Art building. There were only a few students around the alley doing sketching. Zayn waved at them friendlily as if they had been classmates for a while.

He wandered in the hallway, enjoying this transitory peace with himself. He raised his head up, scanning the art works hanged on the wall. The afterglow went down the roof, spreading around those colourful paintings making them sparkle like a serene river.

Zayn could sense a hollow expanding in his heart. Even though he got from those art works everytime, there were still a lot of regrets came on him when he realised he could have put efforts on the same things but he lost the chance.

A loud acclamation came from a distance. Apparently one of the teams just won a score with a good shot. The sky was getting darker, Zayn sighed and gave a last look at the paintings again. But before he left, something caught his attention when he turned around.

There was a poster on the board, with a lot of famous art works as its background, and an eye-catching title in golden flourish which made him soon realized what it was all about.

It was an art contest held by the college which he was desperate to get in. He totally understood how significant this contest was to all the art students. If someone won the price, then there wouldn’t be any university in the world that was not going to welcome them. There were tons of students paying thousands of efforts just to get a chance winning this contest.

Zayn was one of them. But when he gave up the opportunity to go to the art school, he also gave up the idea to win this meaningful competition. However, this poster just showed up in front of him without a clue as if it was trying to remind him of what he had left aside—or what he thought he could get rid of.

There was a second that Zayn almost reached out his hand to pick up the application form below poster. But he stopped himself immediately, taking his sight away from the information. He turned around right away without being aware that someone had been behind for a while.

“Holy fu-”

“Hiya.” Harry grabbed a bubble tea in one hand, biting the straw and waved to Zayn casually by another hand as if they already had an appointment.

“Why are you here?!” Zayn asked abruptly. But Harry didn’t answer him. He looked up to the wall, watching those painting absent-mindedly, turning to Zayn while chewing the bubbles, “Aren’t you supposed to be on the stands now squealing for our team? I thought you’re into that kind of stuffs.”

“That’s exactly what I was asking you.” Zayn replied impatiently, “And what are you even doing here? You aren’t major in art, are you?”

Zayn felt a little bit guilty about the last question since he wasn’t an art student either, but Harry just responded slowly as he took another sip. “Do you genuinely believe people are going to be happy seeing me around the field when they are ready to enjoy the bloody game?”

His answer made Zayn stuttered. Covered by Harry’s weird action outside, Zayn didn’t really take heed of how unpopular Harry was in the school. Whenever Zayn spotted Harry in the campus, he was always alone. Other than himself, Zayn had never seen Harry interacted with any other people as much as with him. He wondered if he’s the only one who had talked to Harry more than three sentences.

“And to your second question, I’m here to hand my Renaissance essay.” Harry broke the silence before Zayn almost uttered an apology, “So, I guess it’s your turn now.”

Without preparing a better explanation, Zayn could only fabricate a lame excuse. “Ur… I was just, walking around. The game must be cool but… I mean, uh, I don’t really like crowds. ”

Harry raised his eyebrow as he emptied his drink, “Well, at least it’s not that the crowd doesn’t like you.”

Zayn neglected the sarcasm in his words. Then he noticed that Harry was staring at the poster behind him. He was trying to find a good reason to get rid of the nuisance before Harry asked anything again, but it was too late.

“You like arts, aren’t you?” Harry pulled the straw out of the empty cup, pointing at the poster.

Zayn shrugged, attempting to keep his voice in composure. “I don’t know. I guess so.”

“You do know.” Harry corrected his answer relentlessly. “You looked at that poster like you want it for Christmas. You wandered around the whole building for one hour or more, scanning every piece of artworks on the wall. No you don’t like arts. You love arts.”

It felt like being pushed into a pool of cool water in front of people without warning. Zayn had no idea what to reply. He glared at Harry angrily, not even thinking about how come Harry knew what he was doing.

“Even if I do, it doesn’t stand for anything.” He controlled his anger and said, “Yeah I was looking at that poster. But that doesn’t mean I wanna join the damn contest alright?”

“Oh, so you’re going to attend it?”

“I don’t! Are you seriously listening?!” Zayn really wished he could have ended the conversation before it got worse, “It’s not even my field. I won’t spend my time on it. Are you satisfied now?”

Harry had the straw dangling from his mouth, babbling impassively. “You just dare not to do what you want to do.”

This just crossed the last line. “Shut the fuck up.” He yelled out furiously, “You don’t even know what’s going on with me. You don’t fucking understand my story. If you’re wondering why nobody likes you, then you should learn how to shut up and mind your own business!”

Zayn knew what he just said was horrible, but he couldn’t help himself. He ran away without saying anything more, leaving Harry alone at the same place. He didn’t turn back to see Harry’s reaction, and he didn’t want to know.

He hated it. He hated how someone who only talked to him for a few time could find out everything that he had hidden to himself for such a long time. He hated how easily his disguise was penetrated. He hated how weak he was to fight back the argument in front of the truth.

Because Harry wasn’t lying, but he was.

“Zayn!”

As Zayn walked down the path distractedly, he heard someone calling his name excitedly in a distance. He looked up and saw Niall with Louis and Liam, along with some lads that he couldn’t remember their names, were waving to him delightedly.

“We won! 3-2! We fucking won!” Niall screamed and jumped onto him when he got closer, “You wouldn’t believe what you’ve missed! It was a tough battle at first, but we turned the table in the middle of the game! I could hardly look away before the referee blew the whistle!”

“Ok Niall, you’re making him choke! You wouldn’t want to kill your roommate right after the game right?” Louis laughed and rescued Zayn from Niall’s hugging attack. “We’re going to throw a party then, fancy joining us?”

Niall released Zayn from his arms, smiling uncertainly, “This was not the final game… but you know it was truly inspiring. We just want to dive into the excitement for longer. And it’s understandable if you can’t come—”

“No, I’m going with you!”

Zayn responded immediately before realising what he was doing. “My projects have been done. I mean, I’ve already missed the extraordinary game. It’s unacceptable if I dropped out the party as well!”

Niall exclaimed in surprise and joy, the other boys joined him and patted Zayn’s shoulders in laughter. Zayn cracked a smile at them too. As they got into Louis’ car, Zayn could heat Harry’s voice was fading away.

If Harry thought he couldn’t enjoy his life as the way he wanted, then he’s just going to prove that he could.

He definitely could.


	6. Chapter 6

Zayn didn’t remember how he went through the whole night. His memories stopped by the time when they arrived at the local bar with people squealing around. The last thing in his mind was a girl thrust a glass of cocktail into his hand. Loud music was playing hard as people danced and screamed out the school team members’ names.

The next sound he heard was when he woke up to the annoying Marimba in his bed. He was still stuck in the scene of drunken people and crazy party games before his brain was ready to function. He got out from the sheet reluctantly, reaching his phone on the nightstand. “…Hello?”

“Zayn, where the hell are you?”

It took him a few seconds to recognise whom the voice belonged to, “What…Perrie?”

“Of course it’s me. Wait, did you just wake up or something?”

Zayn took a deep breath to ease his headache, raising his head to check the clock on the wall, “Ugh, what’s wrong? What time is—”

He almost dropped his phone on the floor when he spotted the time.

“What time is it?! It’s 3 in the afternoon! How many classes have you skipped?”

Perrie yelled at the other end of the call, but Zayn didn’t have time to pay attention on it. He jumped off his bed and ran to his closet, dressing up in chaos. He just missed the class. He missed his favourite British literature class. He couldn’t care less about the one in the morning—well, he didn’t even remember what it was. He looked around the room. Niall had class at 8, which was earlier than Zayn’s first class, that’s why he didn’t wake Zayn up. His energetic roommate was a professional party animal, getting up at 7 with hangover was not a task for him.

He pushed away the door roughly, asking anxiously, “What did Mr. Schwaltz teach today?! Did I miss something important?! ”

“Unfortunately, yes. Or what did you think I called you for? ” Perrie answered mockingly, “We’re talking about the midterm project today. You have to find a partner to finish it.”

Zayn hesitated for a second, “Ugh, so are you—”

“No, sleeping beauty. I’m doing mine with Jade. You’d better ask Mr. Schwaltz what to do. I don’t know if there’s anyone else left.”

Zayn breathed in a hopeless gasp. After thanking Perrie and hanging off the phone, he kept running on the hallway to the professor’s office.

He really didn’t understand how Niall drank six bottles of beer last night and was still able to function in the early morning. He still felt tipsy as his feet hit on the floor that he almost tripped off. A group of people waved to him when he passed the lawn which confused him because Zayn had no idea who they were. When he reached the literature building he finally recalled that they were Louis’ friends whom he met last night.

He climbed up to third floor where the professor’s office located, knocking on the door with his weak fist.

“Come in.”

Zayn twisted the doorknob fiercely, forgetting to adjust his breath before starting talking.

“Mr. Sch-Schwaltz…I am…very…so-sorry…”

The professor sitting on his seat raised his head from the newspaper as he heard Zayn’s voice. He looked at Zayn, who was still struggling to inhale in airs, in surprise, and then gave him an amiable smile.

“Malik! I thought you decided to drop my class. Glad to see you here anyway.”

“I…over-overslept…because…ugh…” Zayn leaned his arms on the sofa beside the professor’s desk, trying to find a better way to explain the situation.

“Don’t worry, I was a student too. I know those partying and alcohol stuffs. ” The experienced man laughed and said, “But still good to see you come to my office even though you’ve missed the whole class. Have a seat.” He pointed at the sofa.

Zayn hesitated for a moment, deciding to keep standing. “Perrie rang me up and told me there’s a midterm project that we have to do with a partner…”

“Ah, she’s a sweet girl. Yes, your project is to choose one book that we’ve been discussing in class, and talk about your opinion with your partner every week. You have to take down your discussion and share it to the whole class at the midterm day.”

The professor handed Zayn the handout which had explanations in detail. Zayn stared at the sheet for and second, looking up to Mr. Schwaltz awkwardly. “Uh… Sorry, sir. But I think I probably don’t have a partner…”

“Oh, luckily we still have one student left! He didn’t get a partner either.”

Zayn sensed an inauspicious feeling climbing fast onto his back. “Wh- who is it?”

“Styles. Harry Styles.”

He’s pretty sure that his spine just froze.

“I’m looking forward to your consequence. Styles and you both impressed me with your answer sheet the first day of class. You two have great viewpoints on British literature.” The professor opened his drawer and picked up one piece of paper, “Look at what he said about Frankenstein: ‘We’re frightened of the nightmare created by ourselves. We contort our dreams to the dark shapes that haunt us in the middle of night.’ Amazing description, isn’t it?”

“I-”

“Also, I heard that you’re quite close with him. That’d be nice to discuss with your friend!”

“Actually-we-ugh…” Zayn paused a second in embarrassment, “We…We are not really friends.”

He was expecting the professor to fade off the smile and gaze at him surprisedly. However, the old man didn’t even seem upset. Instead, an even bigger grin just bloomed on his face.

“Then that’s better! You can get to know each other more. Books are the best bridge to connect people, don’t you agree?”

Zayn swallowed back the whimper in his throat.

He reeled out the room giddily, forcing himself not to think about this tragedy. As he closed the door and turned around, he nearly fell onto the ground.

“Hi.”

Just like his invariable way of greeting, Harry leaned his back to the wall standing outside the office, crossing his arms staring at Zayn who was totally in shock. Unlike what he always did, Harry shortened the ending of the “Hi”. Also, his emotionless tone sounded colder than before.

“Uh.” Zayn made a meaningless sound, wondering why Harry always showed up at the last moment that he wanted to see him. Zayn was waiting for him to continue, but all Harry did was keep quiet. It’s hard to recognise Harry’s mood, however Zayn could still sense the obvious anger in the air.

“I’m sorry”, said Zayn, “About yester…ugh, I was…”

“You don’t have to apologise when you don’t really feel sorry.” Harry cut his sentence abruptly.

Another awkward silence came across the hallway. Zayn stuttered, couldn’t decide whether to insist apologising or not. After all, Harry’s words made him much guiltier.

“Alright…Um, what are you doing here…?”

He felt like this was the question that he had to ask Harry every single day. Harry didn’t reply immediately, he just picked up his phone from his pocket and started playing app game again. “Well, apparently we are going to the project together now, which mean we have to discuss together-” Harry put his left hand between the wall and his back, tapping the phone with his right hand, “ _-every week,_ in case you forget”

Zayn had no words, even though he could already make “reasons why I can’t do projects with Harry Styles” into a real project.

“Yeah…ugh…so…”

“You’d better decide when and where. I’m basically all free.” Harry kept going on without taking any look at Zayn, “Unlike someone who’s busy partying and skipping classes.”

Although Zayn really wanted to step forward slapping off Harry’s phone and punching him in his face, but he knew it would only make the situation even more complicated. Also, obviously, Harry was super mad at him at the moment.

“So…what’s your room number?” Zayn didn’t want Niall to know he was going to do project with Harry together, and he would rather run around the campus nakedly than invite Harry into his room.

But Harry’s swift fingers paused abruptly. “I don’t live in the dorm.”

“What?”

Harry still didn’t bother to raise his head, keeping on his game again. “Do you genuinely believe that somebody would be pleased to find out his roommate is me? Nah, I rent a flat myself.”

“Al…right…” Zayn always had no idea how to reply to Harry when he mentioned stuffs about himself. Harry didn’t seem like he cared at all, which always left Zayn secondhand embarrassment. “But…wait, does that mean I have to go to your place?”

“Unless you want to share your room with me. I’ll be flattered.”

“NO!” Zayn answered immediately. Realising this direct rejection was a little bit rude, he stuttered to explain, “I mean… my room is… is a mess. So it would be ugh… crowded…and…”

“ _Don’t apologise when you’re not feeling sorry._ ” Harry murmured to himself in a lyrical rhythm.

“I’m just- duh.”

Zayn cut the sentence and stared at Harry impatiently. He took a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper. The phone-addicted kid was still looking at the screen as if the phone would fly away once he paid less attention. Except for talking about the project, Zayn couldn’t understand why Harry would be here. Would he keep hiding outside the professor’s office just to wait for Zayn show up? The idea terrified Zayn himself.

Besides, what if Zayn wasn’t late for class today, who would be Harry’s partner? Zayn tried to memorize everything about Harry, but he had no idea if Harry had ever talked to people other than Zayn.

The thing was, even though Harry pissed off by what Zayn had done, he would still do the project together with Zayn anyway.

_He had no choice._

“Yeah, okay. So we will be in your place.” Zayn continued, trying to get rid of the thoughts in his mind. “The problem is, I have no idea where on earth do you live.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ve already sent my address to you.”

With a beep sound popped up from Zayn’s pocket, Harry threw his phone into the air, turning around and catching it marvellously. He walked away without another word before Zayn understood what happened.

As Harry’s figure faded in the end of the hallway, Zayn finally made his brain clear. He watched Harry vanishing into distance, yelling out anxiously.

“How did you get my number?!”


	7. Chapter 7

When Zayn was in 8th grade, he tried to ask a girl out the very first time in his life. That endearing brunette lived three blocks away from his school. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in July. His lads were ridiculing him with applause when they spotted him wondering around the girl’s house with a handmade birthday card. They screamed and shouted and pushed him into the front yard. Zayn was struggling to escape from their grabbing but accidentally falling into a bush. While pulling himself out from the branches and leaves, his laughter froze as he raised his head and caught the eyes of the girl, who was staring at Zayn in shock with her half-naked body pressing on a guy underneath the shrubs.

At that moment he even wished he could end his life.

From then on, coming across somebody’s house brought back the awful memories, whether they had bushes in their front yard or not.

Zayn buried his face into his hands when the horrible experience came in his brain again, almost missed the bus stop that he was supposed to get off. He took a brief look at the environment and then read the address on the screen of his phone again.

Harry’s message was short, with only his address and the dates when he was available. Zayn didn’t’ know what to text back. Harry was like those Middle Ages wall paintings in churches; plain, distant, and emotionless.

He turned into a lane, walking pass an antique style flower store. A young lady portrait by Renoir on the window greeted him with a blur smile. The girl was calm and peaceful, sitting elegantly in the middle of the picture. Her rosy lips curved into a slight grin on her hazy face. The wavy golden brown hair lay down on her tiny shoulders, covering half of her body. Even though she was smiling, it seemed like some stories was depicted inside those foggy lines.

Somehow that reminded Zayn of Harry, who was always so unclear to him. Even though there’s no smile on Harry’s face. _No, he’s not Medieval Art,_ Zayn corrected himself. _Impressionism, yeah, that’s it. He’s Impressionism… like a waterlily pool, or sunrise._

 _Harry was artistic_ , this weird thought came from nowhere inside Zayn’s mind. As if he had said it out loud, Zayn soon blushed in embarrassment.

Zayn didn’t really hate Harry. He recalled the stupid argument with Harry the other day in the Art College. The reason why Zayn lost his temper was probably because there had never been anyone except for Harry who could see through his lie, as though poking a balloon with a needle. Zayn had been holding his little balloon for his life time, never had he prepared that the balloon would explode one day, even in front of someone he wasn’t close with at all.

And that wasn’t fair to Harry, which made Zayn start regretting his childish reaction. Especially for claiming Harry had no friends.

Even though that was the truth.

A regular apartment was landed in the end of the lane. Zayn stepped on the stairs, looking for Harry’s door plate. When he finally spotted it in the corner of the hallway, he couldn’t help taking a long sigh.

Visiting someone’s place was hard for him; visiting Harry Styles’ place _alone_ was even harder for him. Zayn had no idea how to interact with Harry, especially after he put their relationship into an awkward situation.

Zayn didn’t want to be enemies with Harry. Although in particular ways he didn’t really expect to make friends with Harry either. But he’d rather keep the “Zayn and Harry were lying under a tree together!” relationship than be treated by Harry so coldly. After all, despite his quirky actions, Harry had the best taste in literatures than any other one around Zayn.

He pressed the doorbell in hesitation. The door was opened briefly before he was ready to face the owner.

“Umm.”

It was around 10 in the morning, but it seemed like Harry had just woke up with his messy hair and biting a piece of toast. He wore a loose shirt, rubbing his eyes tiredly like a child.

“Good…morning.”

Zayn greeted him unsurely. Harry shrugged and tore the toast apart with his teeth and hand. He leaned his back on the door, making a way to let Zayn him. The doorframe was narrow. Zayn could hardly entry without rubbing his arm against Harry’s chest. His shoulder almost touched Harry’s collarbone. Harry frowned slightly, letting out a little groan with his toast.

The apartment was way more normal than what Zayn expected. It was a simple room with common furniture. The entirety looked neat except for those books scattering around the floor. Zayn was nearly stepping on a _Wuthering Heights_.

“Put them back.” Harry stopped him as he bent down to pick up those books. Zayn raised his head, watching Harry drinking a bottle of milk sloppily, “Why?”

“They’re organised.” Harry answered while milk slid down from his lips, flowing into his unbutton shirt, “You’re making them out of order.”

Zayn didn’t reply. Arguing with Harry was the last thing he wanted to do now. He put the book on the floor again, taking a glimpse to the whole place. Harry’s bed was in the corner, covering by plenty of books as well. The bookshelf, instead, was filled with potted plants and candies. There was no television and sofa. A tiny bathroom was settled next to another little kitchen. Harry finished his breakfast quickly, turning into the kitchen. Zayn couldn’t decide where he was able to sit down or arrange his stuffs. The only suitable place was the table which Harry laid his milk and half load of toast on. So he walked straight toward it, and was soon tripped by something.

Zayn almost fell off to the floor, luckily he held back at the last moment. He looked down irritably to find out what that wrongdoer was. He thought it was another book, but it was softer, and even fluffier. Something white and furry was around his feet.

“What the-”

“Ted!”

Harry rushed out of the kitchen with a relatively lazy tone. He kneed down and put that stuff into his arms. For a moment, Zayn thought it was a huge doll or a cat But when he spotted a pair of long ears, he couldn’t help but yelling out. “You keep a god damn rabbit?”

The rabbit and Harry both turned and stared at Zayn with an exactly same sharp look, like they couldn’t believe he really asked such a stupid question. “Rabbits are awesome.” Harry’s voice was full of proudness, as if he was introducing a masterpiece done by a great artist, “Except for the fact that he bites my books all the time, Ted is the best. He doesn’t make noise, mess around, or judge people who keep a rabbit.”

“I- Seriously, can you stop twisting all my words to make you a victim?”

“I’m helping you saying out those things you dare not to say. That’s all.” Harry put Ted on the floor, not looking at Zayn.

Zayn gave up arguing. He decided to keep silence on every fight between them before Harry forgave him. Although he felt like that would never happen. Zayn knew his words did upset Harry despite how emotionless this kid seemed.

He wondered if Harry had ever seen him as friend. And that’s awkward. Zayn felt like he had lost the ability to identify who his friends were. Not even Niall, not even Perrie, not even Louis and Liam.

And Harry was the hardest one to define. The major problem was, Zayn didn’t even know if he liked Harry or not. Somehow Zayn found a familiarity attribution on Harry, which made him feel disturbed in some ways.

Harry was a book written in a language that Zayn had never learnt before. He has a neat cover and pages without a single picture. Zayn had no clues what the concept was all about. The only thing he could do was read through every line trying to understand them as much as he could.

Ted was wandering on the floor, starting eating a copy of _Different Seasons_ as soon as it spotted the book in the corner. “Give that to me, you long ears white ass!” Harry tried to pull the book out irritably.

“Are we going to start yet?” While watching Harry saving Stephen King from the rabbit’s mouth, Zayn asked. He really didn’t want to spend more time here.

“Go and choose a book you want from here—except for those beside the teapoy, they are French. If you can’t find the one you’re thinking about that means I hate it.” Harry replied. Ted was making some unamused noise since Harry had put the novel on the top of the bookshelf where it couldn’t reach.

The whole room was covered by books. Zayn couldn’t decide where to start. He turned around and picked up a _Dr. Zhivago_ on the table. A piece of paper dropped down at the same time. He bended over to put the paper back, but his arm froze in the air when he saw what that paper was.

“Why do you have this?”

Harry was arranging the rest of books. He seemed to realise what Zayn was talking about immediately. “Because you need it.”

“Why do I need an application form for an art contest?”

Harry dropped the pile of books on his bed impatiently at his respond, “Because I knew we would react like this if I asked you to get one yourself, so I helped you skip this step.”

“You still haven’t answered my question—”

“ _Because_ ,” this is the first time Harry turned around to look at him. Zayn couldn’t tell if he was furious. “You’ve already got that God damn answer.”

The room was plunged into an anxious stillness all of sudden. Ted raised its head from biting Harry’s sheet, watching its keeper glare at the opposite of the room. Zayn took a deep breath. He didn’t want to involve in another unnecessary fight with Harry. But Harry’s non-stop invasion toward Zayn’s secret inside had pushed Zayn to the limit.

“Listen, whether I do something or not, I have my own reasons. And—”

“Oh your own reasons,” Harry shrugged, “of course.”

“Excuse me but do you really want to start a fight right now?”

Despite his effort, Zayn still found it hard to control his temper if Harry wasn’t going to stop his harsh sarcasm. Even though he knew that it would only bring on negative effect.

Everything seemed peaceful in a few seconds. Harry was standing at the same place without replying a word. All of sudden, Harry made his way to Zayn and snatched the paper in Zayn’s hand abruptly.

“What are you doing?”

“Throw it away. I mean, it doesn’t mean a thing to you, does it? It might be more useful to feed Ted.”

“Wait!”

Zayn saw irritation in Harry’s eyes. That was the first time in a while that he had ever seen Harry showing his real anger. “Well, what now?” asked Harry roughly with his raspy voice, “You suddenly have sympathy on this piece of paper that you didn’t give a fuck to a minute ago?”

“Seriously, what do you want?” Zayn responded impatiently, although he couldn’t explain why he decided to stop Harry.

“What do I want?” Harry continued his action, replying with a cold laughter. “Maybe ask yourself the same question. You don’t even know what you’re asking for in your life, huh? I tried giving you a hand, but hmm, I guess it’s just not gonna work.”

The unexpected long answer left Zayn speechless. Harry folded the paper up, starting to tear the paper apart. Without a hesitation, Zayn reached his hand and seized Harry’s wrist. The paper dropped down to the floor.

Both of them froze.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I-”

“Don’t touch me!” Harry swung away Zayn’s arms wrathfully. He was screaming in a way that Zayn had never seen before. “Get away from me!”

Ted was shocked by the accident, rushing under the table and staring at Zayn. Zayn was expecting thing like that would happen. He released Harry’s wrist immediately.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t care! Shut up and leave me alone!”

“I’m sorry—”

“Get out! I hate you!”

Zayn had no choice. Even Ted was glaring him in animosity. He headed to the front door, dare not to turn around and look at Harry. As he left the room, he leaned himself onto the wall, inhaling frustratedly.

He knew what he had touched on Harry’s wrist.

He had sensed the same thing before, on the boy living next door to his home, on his best friend whom he hadn’t met for 6 years, on the lady who sold flowers in front of the school gate, on the girl sitting next to him during 5th grade who consumed a whole bottle of sleeping pills before graduation ceremony.

He knew the sign.

And he wasn’t ready to spot them on Harry.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING: Bullying / Self Harm**  
>  Please understand that I DON'T encourage behaviours mentioned in this chapter

Zayn had been at his room all day.

When Niall came back in the afternoon to grab his wallet left in the dorm, he was surprised to spot Zayn who was still in his bed staring at the heavy copy of Marketing Theory.

“Are you alright, mate?” Niall poked his roommate with a lollipop, “It’s Sunday. Why are you spending the whole time reading that damn boring textbook?”

Zayn sighed slightly and covered his face with the book. “I’m ok, just… not in the mood going out.”

“Then apparently that is not ‘ok’.” Niall sat down on his bed, looking worried at Zayn, “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. Did Penny reject you for a date or what? You seem depressed.”

“She’s called Perrie. And I told you we’re not in that kind of relationship.” Zayn laughed tiredly in reply.

“Well if there’s nothing wrong between you and Peggy, then why are you so down?”

Zayn threw the book to the other side of his bed, gazing at the ceiling without a word. Niall held his chin with his hand, waiting patiently for Zayn’s answer. Zayn was trying to change the subject, but Niall didn’t get fooled by him. “Don’t keep the problem forever, Zayn!” said the Irish consultant, “Come to Papa Horan, ya poor lost kid. I don’t always give the best advice, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

His respond put a light smile on Zayn’s face. Zayn was still in hesitation, wondering what would be a proper explanation. “Well…ok. I don’t-um, what would you do if you accidentally hurt someone’s feeling?”

“Accidentally?”

“Yeah, like, finding out a secret out of blue. You didn’t mean to. But it still hurts them.”

"Not...really...ugh..." Zayn never had a clue how to define his relationship with Harry. There was a moment when they were almost friends, until it started to crumble.

But Niall didn't keep asking. He nodded while generating the answer, "Well, no matter what, I'll definitely suggest you to apologise. Avoiding connection is not a better solution. Especially when you’re the one who hurt that person’s feeling first. "

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Then you have no reasons to flinch, do you?” Niall smiled and tapped Zayn’s shoulder, “Just go and say sorry. It’s not that difficult.”

Zayn was pretty sure if he told Niall who that person was, his answer would be totally different, or he might suggest Zayn to give up. On the other hand, Zayn knew Niall’s point was right, even though he had no idea how to properly apologise to Harry.

In the end he finally climbed down his bed and headed to the bus station. Niall strongly recommended him to bring some food as well. (“Nobody gets mad at people who bring food!”) Although Zayn didn’t think a treatment like this could be worked on Harry, he still walked into a supermarket before going to Harry’s flat.

After walking through the automatic door, Zayn soon realised that he had no idea what kind of food did Harry like. He had only seen Harry having junk food and a pile of milk cartons. Zayn really couldn’t tell what a 20-year-old who kept a rabbit alone in a flat with plenty of books would like to have for supper.

Oh yeah, there’s the damn rabbit.

Zayn felt like that Ted’s animus toward him was as deep as Harry’s, or even more. He couldn’t help but wonder if Harry had ever complained about Zayn to Ted with a beer in his hand in the middle of night and Ted just nodded as agreement while biting Harry’s sleeves. He sensed an old lady beside him was peeking at him because he was trying to hold his laughter in front of a display rack of cabbages.

Rabbits might be easier to understand than human beings, Zayn supposed. He grabbed a vegetable on the shelf. At least being loathed by a rabbit wouldn’t be a huge problem to him.

However, when he climbed up the stairs in Harry’s place, he was soon regretting his decision and drowning in the shame of how stupid he seemed right now. He stood in front of Harry’s door with his arm suspended in the air. After struggling through a few battles with his own self in his mind, Zayn finally pressed the doorbell with a trembling finger.

There was no answer for a moment. All Zayn did was freeze at the same place awkwardly. Just when he was about to give up, the door was opened slowly.

Behind Harry’s unemotional green eyes, there were surprise and confusion. He didn’t say anything but staring at Zayn in silence. Zayn was a bit at a loss. And then he started talking in hesitation.

“I…I know you always say that I shouldn’t apologise if I’m not sorry.” His voice didn’t sound like his own, “But this time I-I am…I am really…really sorry…”

Harry still didn’t reply. He travelled his sight down to the plastic bag in Zayn’s hand. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. Gift for Ted, maybe.” Zayn answered in frustration.

“Are those radishes?”

“Uhm, yeah…”

Out of his expectation, Harry started laughing. He was so happy that Zayn could hardly believe what was happening in front of him. Zayn rarely saw Harry smile, not even mention laughing. Harry’s laughter was quite amusing, if he was not mocking at Zayn.

“You read too much _Peter Rabbit_ , don’t you?” Harry’s face was delighted, “Rabbits can’t eat radishes. They can eat the leaves though, but not the radish itself.”

If Zayn was not here to apologise, he might punch in Harry’s face without a doubt. Although he had to agree how childish he was to believe rabbits actually ate radishes.

Harry stopped laughing, but still giggling pleasantly. He opened out a way to let Zayn in. Ted was taking a nap on the top of Harry’s bookshelf. Zayn had no idea how he reached there.

Harry’s room was still in an organised mess, with books all over the floor in the exact same position as what Zayn saw yesterday. The little rabbit raised his head immediately as he smelled the fragrance of radish.

“It’s not for you, little bitch.” Harry scolded. Ted put down his head unhappily.

Zayn couldn’t find a way to proceed properly without tripping on Harry’s books, so he moved toward a low cabinet in the corner, and then he noticed something above the cabinet.

Aside from a pile of _The Lord of the Rings_ , there was an elegant photo frame like a small tree standing by the bank. Inside the frame, an old photo caught his attention. Zayn soon recognised the younger version of Harry.

His hair was short, with no evidence of his curls. He wore a shy smile, leaning himself on a woman who embraced him with her arms. At the side of the gracious woman was a little girl who grinned at the camera delightfully. She looked older than Harry, but they had the same sparkling eyes.

“I was 7.” Harry’s voice popped up behind Zayn. “My dad took the picture 2 months ago before he left us.”

Zayn didn’t know what to reply, but Harry just continued. “My parents… they had a happy marriage, or maybe I was too little to spot the clues. We went hiking and picnic, just like a normal family did. But one day I heard my dad yelling at my mum under the stairs. Gemma was crying. My mum threw a vase at him and then…I watched him walk out the door. He never comes back afterward.”

He sat down next to Zayn, arranging the books absent-mindedly. “My mum’s income was not enough for 3 of us at that moment, but she still insisted to send me and my sister to privately school. Before Gemma got her first job, my mum had to work over 60 hours every week.”

“Your mum…your mum is a great woman.” Zayn uttered the first sentence he could come up with.

“She is. She worked so hard to offer us a better life. Our happiness means everything to her.” Harry paused a second, raising his arm to lead Ted down to his laps. “So I never told her what happened in the school.”

Zayn didn’t expect Harry to tell him about his past. And there was a part in his mind that he wished Harry would never tell him the rest of the story. Zayn turned away to avoid Harry’s wrist. He felt like there was something he didn’t want to hear about.

“…Why?” Zayn asked unsurely.

“They didn’t like me.” Harry added, “Those people in the school.”

“Because of your…family…?”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t know. I mean, people dislike you for every kind of reasons. Sometimes they can’t even explain why. It doesn’t matter what the reason is, the only thing they are certain is…they hate you.”

Ted started chewing Harry’s shirt, but Harry didn’t stop him. “I did attempt to be friends with them. I tried to figure out what made them hate me so much. I examined what I was doing wrong. But I didn’t get any answer or reward.”

For a moment, there was only a peaceful silence, which Zayn thought, and hoped it would last forever. He wanted to ask Harry to stop, but he couldn’t make a single sound.

“Well, and one day, they thought it would be fun to celebrate my 14th birthday by locking me inside my locker.”

Harry took a deep breath. Zayn wasn’t sure if he was waiting for Zayn’s respond. And that made Zayn feel guilty for his speechlessness.

“It’s not really a big deal at first. I was even thinking this day finally came.” Harry brushed Ted’s soft fur slowly. His tone was turning raspy again. “I knew they would set me free anyway. So I started carving random doodles on the wall with a cutter while waiting for them to open the door.”

“So…” Zayn was finally able to speak again, “Did they get you out in the end?”

Harry smiled. The smile was even bitterer than a teardrop.

“They thought it was just a harmless prank. They were going to release me from the locker after a few minutes and laughed at my reaction. But they forgot. They forgot about me and their stupid trick, until they see the sign.”

“What...” asked Zayn in a dry voice, “...What sign?”

Harry shrugged, as if he was talking about something random and unimportant, “My blood.”

Zayn felt like there was a flame deep inside his throat.

In his memories, Harry was always wandering alone in the campus. Zayn knew Harry didn’t really have friends, and he knew people barely wanted to have a connection with him, same as what Zayn used to do.

However, he started to wonder if Harry was also avoiding people the same way as people avoiding him. His weird action and behaviour were the methods to keep everyone else away.

“I’m sorry.” Zayn whispered after his long reticence.

Harry put Ted down, looking at Zayn and asking hesitantly, “Why?”

“You don’t… you don’t deserve things like… that.”

Zayn tried to sort his thoughts out. But the more he wanted to say, the weaker his words got. Zayn didn’t want to look at Harry. He stared at the floor watching Ted stumbled on Harry’s bag. Harry leaned himself to the table in a slow pace. Zayn couldn’t see his face.

“Well,” Harry mumbled, “thanks.”

He knocked on the wooden surface with a finger in his own rhythm. Zayn wondered if that’s what he heard from his mystery earphones.

“And I’m sorry too.” said Harry under his breath.

“For what?”

“Hmm. I don’t know but, I was a bit irritated when you kept acting like you had no choice with your life. It reminds me of my old self. I hate it.” His raspy sound was fading, “So there was a time where I was like, really mad at you. For example that day at the Art School, I was seriously considering punching you.”

The abrupt confession resulted in a complex laughter from Zayn. He raised his head, catching a sudden smile flashing by Harry’s face. Even if it was all occurring in a blaze, Zayn knew it was purely a real smile.

“Also, I still keep the application form though.”

“Huh?”

Harry bounced off the table, walking straight toward Zayn. The distance between them was soon narrowed to the closest. His unanticipated action made Zayn step back immediately. “What—” But all Harry did was pick up a paper on the low cabinet behind Zayn.

“The contest.” Harry answered. His breathing flapped on Zayn’s face like a warm wave. “Go for it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve got this time. I don’t care and I don’t wanna listen to them.”

Zayn gazed at the paper in Harry’s hand. He was still in doubt with himself. In spite of all the words Harry said, he was still uncertain whether he could handle everything following by after he accepted the paper.

But then he saw the scars on Harry’s wrist again.

“Ok.” said Zayn as he touched Harry’s cold fingertips. Harry rewarded him with another smile. This time it didn’t disappear.

“Alright then.” Harry turned around, rescuing a book that was attacked by Ted’s teeth again, “We really need to sort out what book to discuss about. Or we’re gonna be partners again when we fail the class.”

Zayn grinned, folding the paper and putting it into his pocket. While following Harry to find the book they wanted, he picked up Ted on the floor. The lazy rabbit stared at him with his ruby eyes that reminded Zayn of Harry’s misty emeralds, and the sparkle hidden under the dark turquoise pupils.

He really wished Harry could see it.


	9. Chapter 9

Zayn knew that their process was seriously postponed, but his partner didn’t seem to be as worried as he was. After spending a whole weekend in Harry’s place, all Zayn had done was a simple draft of his painting, and constantly yelling at Harry, who apparently had more interested in his mobile phone and that arrogant rabbit.

“We should have started working on our project two weeks ago.” Zayn complained to Harry the fifth time today after Harry’s lazy salad lunch. The uncleansed bowls were still on the table, with Ted sitting inside trying to find a small piece of cabbage. Harry didn’t answer. He was lying in his bed focusing on the new game downloaded last night.

“I’ve already told you, just go choose a book.” The game over music started and Harry eventually responded. He frowned at the screen and murmured, not being satisfied with his score.

“Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ve already suggested you Agatha Christie—”

“She’s awesome, but I’m tired of crime novels.”

“And also _The Time Machine_ —”

“Nice book but sci-fi is a no.”

“ _Oliver Twist_ by Dickens—”

“He makes Jewish sound awful in that book, no way. Why do I still keep it here?”

All Zayn’s proposals were being rejected by Harry relentlessly. The serial killer sat up, staring back at Zayn with an innocent look and shrugged, “So, what else have you got?”

Without a word what to reply, Zayn had no choice but sighing and taking a quick look at all the books around the floor. He was pretty sure that he had already named all the books as he could, including those that he had never even read. He raised his head, glancing at the easel in the corner that he had no idea where Harry got it from.

“Alright, how about this time you choose, and I go continuing my painting before you make the decision. Fair enough?”

Harry didn’t look enjoying this idea, but he just pouted and replied, “Whatever.”

Finally getting a break from the handful, Zayn let his breath out relievedly and walked toward his artwork. Despite his suggestion, Zayn actually hadn’t decided what to create on his canvas. He had been spending a few days trying to come up with something new in his sketch book, but they all ended up lying in the bottom of the trash can.

He turned around and faced at Harry, who was now grabbing a book beside the teapoy. Harry held his chin, leaning to his bed and starting reading the book with a frown. Zayn noticed Harry did that a lot. Whenever Harry was concentrating, he always had the same look; when he was checking his essay, when he negotiated with professors, when he saved a book from Ted’s teeth, when he tried to break his record on Flappy Bird, when he talked about himself, when he looked at Zayn. Why was this expression so terribly underrated?

Zayn reached his charcoals and sketchbook slowly, not missing any precious moment of this picture. He touched the paper gently, delineating the outline carefully, as if a single mistake would bring on tragedy. The room was peacefully quiet, with only the sound of Harry flipping the page, and the noise of Ted chewing the edge of the bowls. Zayn drew down the lines attentively, watching Harry gradually floating on his paper, like the floes on the river melting away with the arrival of spring.

How many times he had visited Harry’s flat, Zayn actually couldn’t tell. Ever since he decided to join the contest, the little spared space in front of Harry’s kitchen had already become his temporary studio. Zayn didn’t want to admit, but so far this is a secret that he only wanted to share with Harry. He knew Niall and his friends would support him, but Zayn was not ready. He was not ready to show everyone his real self, and he was not ready to face it yet.

But he wanted to make an attempt, just for what Harry told him.

Harry was mad at him, which Zayn found it funny because he was mad at Harry too. However, compared to Harry’s reasons, his action was much more childish and selfish. Zayn was not proud of that, even though he knew it was his weakness. And Harry rushed in, attacked it, broke it, not to make Zayn surrender, but to force him to stand up and fight.

“What are you doing?”

Zayn was trying to capture the shadow in Harry’s eyes, but when he raised his head up, those eyes had already fixed on him.

“Ugh…Just drawing.”

“Drawing me?”

Zayn couldn’t tell what the emotion inside this sentence was, so he just nodded hesitantly. “Uhm, yeah.”

“Why?”

The confusion in Harry’s voice was sincere. It was not a trick question. Harry was genuinely clueless with Zayn’s action. Zayn was speechless with such a question. “I…I need practicing.”

“You can draw Ted. He’s right next to you.”

“I wanna draw human beings, not that cocky creature.” Zayn turned at the table. Ted was giving him an unfriendly glare.

“That’s weird. Don’t draw me.” Harry stood up immediately with an embarrassed look. He headed to the table and grabbed Ted out of the bowls then putting it on the floor despite the salad dressing in his white fur.

Zayn shrugged, watching Harry walked into the kitchen. He was a bit surprised that Harry would react like a 12-year-old girl who didn’t want her parent to film her birthday video. Zayn couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s always entertaining to see Harry acting like a normal person.

He looked down at the floor. Ted had discovered a new hobby in Zayn’s stuffs. The cunny rabbit changed his target from the empty salad bowl to Zayn’s bag.

“Harry.” The owner of the victim yelled, “Ted is eating my bag.”

“Poke his forehead.” Harry’s voice came from the door.

Zayn was in doubt for a moment, but still followed Harry’s advice. The unexpected attack shocked the fluffy little guy, so then he fought back aggressively.

“Oh-Fuck.” Zayn shouted abruptly, “He bites me.”

Harry walked out the kitchen casually, picking up another book and sitting back on his bed, not even looking at Zayn. “Hmm, it happens.”

“And that’s the best solution you can suggest?” Zayn pressed the wound, asking irritably. Harry laughed, replying in a cheerful tone. “At least he isn’t biting your bag now.”

Zayn sighed, shutting his sketchbook and put it back to his bag, “Why are we even friends?” He grumbled jokingly. But then Harry put down the book slightly, asking unsurely, “…Are we?”

Zayn blinks, answering after a short pause. “Yeah.”

“Well.” Harry spoke uneasily, hiding himself behind the heavy cover and mutter, “But I’m not cool enough to be your type of lads.”

The respond widened Zayn’s eyes, “You _are_ cool.”

A flush blossomed onto Harry’s cheeks.

“Wait—what—” it was only a flash of times, but Zayn didn’t miss this occasion that was hard to come by, “Did you just blush?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Harry threw a pillow at him. Zayn dodged and kept exclaiming childishly, “You just blushed!” He burst out into laughter, in the way that he hadn’t experienced for a long while. Zayn couldn’t even find a proper reason to explain why, but now he was ridiculously happy, like a kid who just found a non-seen colour in a pack of MM chocolate beans.

He didn’t stop mocking at the Harry until the curly stood up and start throwing something much more dangerous than pillows. Zayn covered the easel with his body as a protection when the alarm clock flew straight to his future masterpiece even though it was still all blank. “OK—put that God damn vase down!”

Ted was under the lamp, trying to find something as his popcorns for watching this farce. Harry was still having a bit of the sulk mixed with anger and embarrassment. He kneed down to arrange those books which he was trying to use as his weapons. “Alright, let’s be serious.” Zayn checked the canvas narrowly to make sure it didn’t get any destroyed, “Have you found the chosen one yet?”

“Yeah.” Harry replied curtly, handing him a book in hardcover. Zayn almost bawled out as he recognised the elegant calligraphy title printed in gilding immediately, but he made his sentence as calm as possible, “…You’ve already decided it in the beginning, right?”

Harry shrugged as a general answer. “I told you I like Jane Austen, a lot.”

“Not surprising. But I thought you would choose something less mainstream with college students such as William Thackery or Anthony Trollope.”

“ _Pride and Prejudice_ is awesome.” said Harry proudly, as if Austen was his closest sister who completed this outstanding monument of the generation. He picked up a blanket and stuffed it into the bookshelf which was already full of cookies tins and crisps. Zayn watched Harry doing his own style of interior decoration. A slight smile came onto his face. “Sometimes I’m really jealous of you.”

“For what?”

“For being whom you want to be.” Zayn said. He wasn’t sure if this was a compliment or not. Harry was behind him, and Zayn didn’t want to see his face whilst talking about this.

“Well,” Harry uttered, as calmly as the path of a cloud in a windless day. “It is not that hard when you start trying.”

“I do.” Zayn responded, “But I consider a lot of things. I just can’t put them all away. You understand? I am…I am the only son of my parents. Their expectation on me is not a pressure to me because it is what I wish myself could be too. If a little scarification can remain their smiles, I won’t be remorseful for my choice.”

He would never be the wet blanket. He didn’t allow himself to do so. He wasn’t clear if he was happy with that. But at least, he knew he wouldn’t regret about it.

“Sure you won’t.” Harry replied slowly, “Because you don’t even know what you’ve lost.”

Zayn turned around, not realising Harry was standing so close to him that they almost bumped into each other. Zayn could recognise the same stare that Harry always did when they went on this kind of topic. He could even hear Harry’s iconic raspy tone in his ears.

“Stop being so harsh on yourself,” Harry paused in hesitancy, “ _Zayn_.”

Barely did Zayn notice that Harry had never call his name directly before till now. As the sound came from Harry’s throat after being emphasised by his low voice, Zayn could feel a sudden electricity shot into his veins. He was a bit dizzy, but still fixing his eyes on Harry.

“You spare the pride to people, but leave your own prejudice on yourself.” Harry looked down at the book in Zayn’s hands, “That’s so weird.”

“You’re the last person on Earth to tell somebody that he’s weird.” Zayn smiled.

“At least I’m enjoying it.” Harry grins back.

Zayn wished he was brave enough to tell Harry that in such a world where people all strangely masking themselves for fear of reasons that they didn’t even understand, Harry’s rebellion was far more normal and way more authentic. It was what he was naturally born with, and he did not bother to hide, he did not bother to let it shine.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been more than a month since Zayn developed the habit of spending his leisure time at Harry’s flat. In the beginning he only showed up during the weekends trying to convince Harry to start their projects, and Zayn was always wondering when Harry would start asking him to share the rent.

Niall was curious about his mystery change, even though he never tried to pry into Zayn’s secret as long as Zayn didn’t want to talk about it. Zayn really appreciated his thoughtfulness, and it made him feel guilty that he had constantly rejected Niall’s party invitations. Niall did not complain about this anymore, but sometimes Zayn would still give him a surprise by showing up unexpectedly in their small gathering on Friday nights. Zayn liked Niall. He liked Liam’s geniality and Louis’ attitude. They made him laugh, made him feel lively and breezy. And that was what Zayn was afraid that he would lose when he first came into the college.

Zayn enjoyed spending time with them, but with Harry it was another story. Harry was a mellow glass of nightcap after a long day-trip. He felt relaxed and cosy whenever Harry was by his side. Zayn didn’t meet Harry often in the campus, and somehow he felt like Harry did it on purpose—to avoid people seeing them together. So when Harry finally opened the door of his flat for him, Zayn always felt like coming home, going back to somewhere he didn’t need to hide, or lie about himself.

Instead of worrying the deadline of their project, Harry was more concerned with the contest that he persuaded Zayn to join. At first Zayn claimed that he didn’t have any place or tool to start his work, but few days later when he visited Harry’s place again, there was a whole new easel and a box of oil painting supplies waiting for him.

“Where the hell did you get these from?!” Zayn had never foreseen this to happen. He didn’t want Harry to spend extra money on him as a motivation. But Harry just shrugged, “Well, it wasn’t really hard. I just went chatting with Kyle, telling him that I wanna borrow some stuff from him. And then I started talking about quantum mechanics. He rushed into his studio and brought out everything I requested.”

Zayn had no words. He wondered if that art student was really named Kyle or not.

But after Harry’s little surprise, Zayn gradually spent more time in Harry’s flat. He hadn’t really touched the materials borrowed from poor Kyle. Instead, he dug out his old sketchbook deep down in his suitcase. He decided to draw everything before he found his inspiration. Zayn came to Harry’s place almost everyday, grabbing a book on the floor that he never read before, watching the boring TV show with Harry and joking about the host’s terrible hairstyle together, or doing random doodles while Harry was struggling with his constitution essay.

“You should hang out with your friends more often.” Sometimes Harry would tell him so. Zayn would always reply cheekily, “I am now” and then watched Harry’s face turning red again and throw everything he could reach at Zayn.

Even though it was not obvious, but Zayn noticed that Harry was actually a bit shy and lack of confident, especially about friendship. Except for that quirky rabbit, Zayn had no idea whom Harry had been friends with before him. Ted still liked to bite Zayn and destroyed Zayn’s stuffs, such as his sketches. And it bothered Zayn a lot. However, whenever he asked Harry for help, Harry always laughed and told him that he should make friends with Ted.

“He doesn’t like me.” Zayn replied awkwardly.

“You didn’t like me in the beginning.” Harry embraced Ted into his arms, giving Zayn and light smile.

Recently Ted had been lazy and spending most of his time sleeping. Even when Zayn poked his forehead with a pencil, Ted only moved his ears impatiently. Zayn sat on his spot and started drawing the furry outline. He had to admit that this rabbit was only lovely when he’s in his dream.

“Is he sick? He has been sleeping all day.” Zayn stared at Ted and asked.

“He’s alright. He’s just an old man now.” Harry put down the book and walked toward the table that Ted was taking a nap on, “You won’t believe how energetic he was before. This little bastard used to bother me all night long.”

Zayn chuckled, “How long have you been keeping Ted?”

“Six years. He was Gemma’s 16th birthday gift. But she gave him to me when she left for college.” He stroked Ted’s spine gently, “She knew I needed a friend. And he is the only one I’ve ever got.”

“So this explains why he hates me.” Zayn smirked, “He’s not the only one now.”

He was prepared for Harry to throw things at him again, but it didn’t happen. Instead, Harry only gave him a smile as a respond.

The night when Zayn left Harry’s flat, he got a text message in the cab. He picked out his phone from his pocket. It was only a short message.

_I know. Thanks. - H. xx_

Five seconds later, his phone vibrated again.

_Ignore the x’s. - H._

Zayn grinned at his screen, texting back with a simple “Good night”. Before pressing the send button, he also added two x’s in the end. But he didn’t ask Harry to ignore them. He didn’t want him to.

✸

Niall was right at the door when Zayn walked out of the classroom. His blonde Irish roommate exclaimed excitedly at Zayn’s confused face, “Yay! Gotcha. I’ve been waiting for your class to dismiss. You ain’t gonna run away this time!”

Zayn was still clueless, “What?”

“We haven’t had dinner together for ages! Seriously Zayn, I won’t care if you’re secretly seeing a married woman or what. I mean that’s your own business but you can’t disregard your friends like this!”

Some people turned around to look at them as Niall were yelling loudly. Zayn shouted at them embarrassedly, “That’s not real!”

“Whatever!” Niall threw his arms into the air, “Louis and Liam both miss you too. Don’t be a cruel guy and reject me again!”

“Alright, alright.” Zayn surrendered and laughed. He had spent the last week with Harry all the time. He knew he should go back with the other lads, especially when receiving such a passionate invitation.

When they arrived at the cafeteria, the two famous guys were already there along with two of their friends. They were both popular footballers on the school team. Zayn had met them before, but he didn’t remember their names until Louis introduced them once again to him. The Jacob guy greeted him first, the one named Max didn’t even look at him.

Louis and Liam were both pleasant to see Zayn, and Zayn also missed the casual conversation with them. Louis complained about the new construction beside the library; Liam talked about his new girlfriend Sophia; Niall chatted about the football games with the other two guys.

But the short gathering was soon interrupted as Zayn saw Harry walk into the cafeteria, especially when Harry was heading right straight for him. Everyone around the table raised their heads to look at him, except for Louis who was staring at his plate as if he wanted to set it on fire with witchcraft.

“Hi.” said Harry. Zayn wasn’t sure if it was to all the people or only to Zayn. “You forgot your papers. Thought you might be looking for them”

“Oh…thanks. Didn’t realise that.” Zayn accepted his economics project, watching Harry leaving without another words. The silence behind him made him feel uneasy. Zayn turned around and Niall was the first one to speak, “Wow, I don’t know you’ve made friends with Harry.”

“I…we shared a project by accident.” Zayn answered. He was not ready to let people discover his relationship with Harry.

“That’s unfortunate.” Max laughed out. It was the first time he talked to Zayn. “Doing a project with that freak? Would’ve killed myself if I were you.”

Zayn faced at him. His tone made Zayn a bit uncomfortable. “He is not that bad.”

“He could be worst, you just don’t know.” Max shrugged, with a repulsive smile on his face. “Haven’t you guys heard about his rumours?”

“What?” asked Jacob curiously. Before Max could reply, Louis cut his sentence with a glare, “Shut the fuck up, Max.”

Even though Max looked irritable by such an interruption, he still closed his mouth and bit the straw of his coke indignantly. Liam started another topic to soften the stiff atmosphere, but Max’s voice was still ranging in Zayn’s mind like a disturbing song.

The interlude was almost over until Louis and Liam left to meet another group of people a few tables away. Max raised his head and kept on his unfinished speech. “So, none of you have really heard about his story? That Styles kid.”

“Didn’t Louis ask you to stop talking about that?” Niall put down his sandwich and asked.

“I didn’t see him around. He can’t be the boss all the time.” Max countered back coldly. The only one who was interested in the subject was Jacob. He held his chin and asked, “What do you mean? I thought he’s just acting oddly.”

“‘Odd’ is not accurate enough to describe his behaviour.” Max slowed down his sentence in a dramatic way. Zayn didn’t even want to pay attention to him. He prayed inside that Louis would come back soon. However, his invocation didn’t get answered. Max took another sip of his coke and continued, “He is a manwhore.”

Jacob exclaimed in a sick voice, “What the hell?” Niall frowned indisposedly, “Seriously, dude.” Even Zayn couldn’t help but twisted his head at Max with a deadly stare.

Max was satisfied with the reaction. He put on a provoking smirk and went on, “I wish I had more details. But I’ve heard this from people who know him. Can you believe that? He fucked random guys in his high school, frequently; or hooking up strangers in bars when he was still underage. No wonder nobody is ever around him, or he might break into your bathroom and suck your dick off.”

“Shut your fucking hell up.” Zayn gnashed in rage. He clutched his knees with both of his hands in case he jumped up from his seat to punch in Max’s face. The loathsome footballer turned his face at Zayn, sneering at him despitefully, “Oh what? It’s just a friendly reminder since you’re working with a prostitute. Who knows what he will do to you?”

“Take your words back!”

“Why? I’m just telling you what I know.” Max snorted.

“You don’t know anything about him.” Zayn could feel Niall’s fingers were around his arm. “Let’s go, Zayn.” He whispered. But Zayn couldn’t move himself.

“Woah, so how much do you understand him?” Max didn’t stop either. He crossed his arms and let out an ugly laughter, “Why are you so protective over him? You fancy him? Did he give you a blowjob as a reward for finishing your project?”

“Max!” Even his teammate couldn’t stand his words. Jacob muttered with scold, “You really need to stop.”

But Max ignored him, glaring back at Zayn toughly, “I do not care what you’re gonna say about that little hooker. I will keep myself as far as I can away from him. He is truly nasty, and…disgusting.”

Zayn didn’t know how it happened, but he knew it was too late when Niall shouted, “NO! ZAYN!” His fists hit on Max’s body like the raindrops from a thunderstorm. He could hear people squealing, but he had no time thinking about what he was doing. Max was shocked in the beginning, but was soon reacting violently. Max was a well-trained footballer. His beating was ten times heavier than Zayn’s. Even so, Zayn was not afraid. He kept on punching in Max’s nose till it almost broke. He didn’t care anymore.

It was like a century long, until both of them were separated by someone. Liam was the strongest of them all. Even though Max was struggling to fight back, Liam still pulled him away from Zayn. Niall ran toward Zayn on the floor immediately, looking at him worriedly, “Holy mother of God, are you alright?!”

Zayn had no idea how seriously he was injured till his mind was gradually coming back to reality. He felt like all his bones were burning. Louis rushed between them and Max’s mates in case they took revenge on Zayn. He looked at Max, who’s awfully in a mess furiously. Even though Max could hardly talk, Zayn still heard his mumble clearly: “Faggot.”

“Take him away, Niall. I will handle this.” Louis murmured to them, “Make sure he’s ok.”

Niall nodded, helping Zayn standing up. With Louis’ staring, everyone just stepped back to create a way for them. Zayn tried to look around the cafeteria with his unclear sight, but he couldn’t find Harry.

“Sorry.” He gasped as Niall supported him going up the stairs, “I must be in trouble.”

“You won’t as long as you’re in Louis Tomlinson’s friendzone.” Niall replied with a warm smile, “I don’t approve violence but I have to say you were rad as fuck. Max is a stupid dick. He makes friends with Louis only because he wants to be cool, but he’s a real twat.”

Zayn grinned at him tiredly. But he still couldn’t get rid of the words that Max said. He didn’t want to believe a shit of that asshole. However, the thought still came into his mind like a needle on his back: How much did he know about Harry?

✸

The next day Zayn was in the bed due to Niall’s insistence. “You will break into pieces if you try to move. I don’t wanna hold a can with your uncompleted body parts inside and press on the doorbell like, ‘I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Malik. We tried out best.’”

He tried not to laugh as the pain started climbing back to his body. He sent a message to Harry to inform him that he wouldn’t come visiting today, but Harry didn’t reply.

After a day of full resting, Zayn did feel better when he finally climbed down his bunk. It still hurt when he moved his arms, but at least he could walk. Besides, he didn’t want to miss the British Literature class in the afternoon, even though he wasn’t really sure how to face Harry.

However, he realised that his concern was unnecessary when the bell rang but Harry was still not in the classroom. He searched every line in the room carefully, and then gazed at the door hoping Harry would show up with his earphones unplugged in and piss off some girls with his abstruse language, just like the first day they met.

_Where are you? We’re talking about Aldous Huxley today. You wouldn’t want to miss it. Xx_

There was no respond 40 minutes later. Zayn could hardly pay attention to the professor and _Brave New World_. He didn’t give up, putting out his phone again to send another message.

_I hope this is just another experiment, Curly. It’s kinda scary._

Harry was still disappeared after the class ended, and Zayn didn’t get any text from him. Even when Zayn decided to call him, there was also no answer.

“Hey, Zayn!” A joyful voice came behind him. But Zayn didn’t really feel cheerful. “Hi, Perrie.”

“Are you alright?” She looked at him worriedly as he put a long face at her, “Is there anything wrong?”

“Well…I’m trying to connect Harry, you know, we share the project. But he hasn’t replied me since yesterday.” Zayn knew Perrie didn’t really like Harry, so he was quite surprised when he saw panic in her eyes. “Really?” she asked nervously, “He was not in the psychology class yesterday either. I thought…I thought he was just skipping the class.”

Zayn could feel a stroke right into his heart.


	11. Chapter 11

Zayn almost forgot to pay the driver before he jumped out of the cab. His mind was in a mess, combined with anxiety and a little bit anger. He had called Harry 5 times in the cab, and the result kept on disappointing him. Zayn tried to get rid of the selfish thoughts, although he was mad at Harry at the same time. He was mad at Harry’s mystery missing; he was mad that Harry disappeared to nowhere after he got into a fight for him; he was mad that Harry left him alone. But he couldn’t neglect it.

Now he was standing in front of Harry’s door, staring at the doorbell in a complex mood. He had no idea where he could go other than the school and Harry’s flat. His hand froze in the air when he raised his painful arm. _Please be here_ , he whispered to himself desperately. _Please be fine, Harry._

The bell rang, returning with a long, dead silence. Zayn couldn’t help himself anymore. He knocked on the door and yelled out with a dry voice, “Harry? Damn it please tell me you’re inside. Open this fucking door.”

He tried to hear if there was any movement in the house, but everything was in a hopeless stillness. Zayn knocked on the door again with his shivering fingers, “Please, Harry, I’m frightened.”

Just at the same moment, the door was finally opened. Zayn was not ready for that. So when he saw Harry’s pale face, he was more in shock than relief.

“Hi.” Harry’s voice cracked. It didn’t even sound like him.

“Oh God.” Zayn could sense the rising temperature of Harry in such a short distance, “You have a fever?”

But Harry didn’t answer. He stumbled to make a way for Zayn. He leaned on the wall, struggling to walk toward the kitchen. Zayn reached out a hand trying to hold him, but Harry dodged away.

“You wanna drink something? Tea? Coffee? Hot water?” Harry asked in a weird tone. He tiptoed to approach a cup from the cabinet, but he missed it and the cup dropped onto the floor into pieces.

“Harry.” Zayn stepped forward to drag Harry away from the tragedy impatiently. Harry didn’t look up at him but stared at the floor with an empty expression. Zayn sighed slightly, looking around to find the little rabbit that could always calm Harry down. He turned at the table where it always took a nap on.

“Ted died.” Harry spoke emotionlessly.

Zayn’s arm slid down in weakness.

“I knew it was coming, but I could never predict when.” Harry talked slowly under his breath, “He had been weaker and weaker recently. I took him to the vet, even though I knew he hated that place. I hate that place too, especially when they told me they couldn’t help.”

Zayn didn’t like it. He didn’t like it when Harry started telling him a story that he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t like it when he had no words to respond to Harry’s raucous voice.

“Yesterday when I woke up and saw the way he stared at me, I knew it was the time.” He moved his trembling body to the edge of his bed, “I had no idea what to do. I’m not good at this. And then I remembered that he had never seen the sea. How many rabbits have ever seen the blue water shining under the sunshine in their lives? Ted was a cool guy. He shouldn’t leave with this pity. So I put him in my bike, heading straight toward the beach…he was so happy. I know it’s weird he was truly happy. Kids like him, and it was a miracle that he didn’t hate them. For a moment I even thought he was alive again…Can you give me a glass of water?”

But Zayn didn’t move. He felt like he had forgotten how to function.

“We spent a whole day there. It was…it was really wonderful, despite how ridiculous I looked like.” Harry took a deep breath and continued, “We sat on the sand watching the sun going down. I knew the sunset was always beautiful, but I never really paid attention to it before, watching everything covered by an orange silk, I could almost touch it…Ted was cold when I picked him up from the basket. I hope he saw the entire scene before leaving. I didn’t want to bury him. It seemed so lonely under piles of dirt. I made a boat with driftwoods for him. So I could watch him float away, as if he was just gonna travel to somewhere.”

Harry covered his face with his palm, cracking a bitter laughter at Zayn. “…You really don’t wanna give me some water?”

“I…” Zayn stuttered, trying to squeeze out a proper sentence, “I’m…I’m so-”

“No, Zayn, _I am sorry_.” Harry put down his hands and faced at Zayn. Those emerald eyes were covered by a silk water fog. “I saw your texts. But I threw my phone away and let it scream alone. I don’t know how to do this. I really don’t.”

“But you don’t have to carry the burden all by yourself.” Zayn seized Harry’s arms, but Harry looked away immediately. “I was nearly freaking out when you tried to hide from me, alright? You are not alone, Harry. _You have me_.”

However, Harry pushed him away aggressively and yelled, “No, you _don’t_ understand because you don’t have to see those things! I’m always in that God damn locker before waking up in the middle of night! Whenever I close my eyes, all I see is the darkness, and my own blood! All over the wall!”

“Har-”

“And then I see my father walking out of the door! I see my mum lying in the hospital for overwork! I also see Gemma, tearing up alone in her room! Ted floating away from me on his boat! They are so vivid! So clear! Right in front of me! Just like ghosts!”

“Harry,” Zayn begged anxiously, “please—”

“And I see you!” Harry exclaimed. It was like an electric shot into Zayn’s heart. “I see you! I-I see you in the cafeteria, sitting with _Louis_ —that fucking jerk—and suddenly you’re far away from me, like you’ve never been here! And then I’m like, I don’t give a damn anymore, just like everyone else! I heard my phone ringing till I got a headache. I knew it could only be you—but why would you even care? I don’t know, I was so tired and fretful. I walked into the kitchen and glared at those knives. You knocked on the door at the same time. I was going to ignore you again, or forever. But then I recalled, I recalled that you-you-you are the only one now.”

Harry gasped exhaustedly, repeating slowly in a weep, “ _You’re the only one now._ ”

Zayn had so many questions in his mind, but they were all irrelevant now. Harry lowered his head to avoid eye contact with him. Zayn couldn’t come up with a word. Every word from this unexpected confession hit on him relentlessly like thousands of bombs falling down on the ground during an air raid.

“I’m sorry.” Harry apologised again tiredly, “I don’t know what I can do. I’m so fucked up and I hate myself like this.”

“Stop saying that, Harry. It’s not like you.” Zayn pulled him closer gently. He almost forgot that Harry had a fever until Harry’s heat pressed on his chest. “Listen, none of these are your fault. You were the one telling me to stop being harsh on myself, and you should tell yourself the same thing.”

“It’s not the same.” Harry mumbled.

“It is. C’mon, Harry. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met.” Zayn rubbed down Harry’s spine smoothly. “But I don’t want to be.” Harry exhaled, “I don’t want to be brave. It’s so stressful.”

“Then cry if you want to.” Zayn replied curtly, “That’s what you’ve taught me. Be honest with your own self.”

He felt Harry’s body shake slightly in his arms. Zayn didn’t want to think about how many nights that Harry had been sobbing in his sheet, struggling through those nightmares with only himself. Zayn didn’t want it to happen again, and he wouldn’t let it be. After all, he’s the only one now.

“30 seconds.” Harry whimpered, “Just 30 seconds. Don’t look at me.”

“Ok.”

Zayn couldn’t remember what the last time was when he cuddled someone tightly in his arms, not even with their tears falling down on his collars. Harry’s heartbeats were knocking on his ribs underneath his temperature that was burning through Zayn’s skin like wildfire. And it hurt when Harry tried to hide his sob by pressing his head onto Zayn’s neck. Zayn wasn’t sure whether it was because Max punched 3 times on that place, or because Harry didn’t even know how to properly let out his grief in front of the only one he could trust now.

“I feel like a loser.” Harry muttered afterwards.

“It’s alright. We don’t always win.” Zayn pet on his shoulder. Harry smiled, rubbing his eyes and leaning away. “So, can you go get me some damn water now?”

“Yeah, but you have to lie back to your bed.” Zayn stood up, walking pass the broken pieces on the floor carefully to reach another cup. When he handed the water to him, Harry’s cold fingertips didn’t even seem like belonging to his fiery body. And then Zayn noticed that Harry was looking at the scar on his forearm.

“I shouldn’t have showed up in front of your friends.” Harry took a sip and said.

Zayn had no idea if Harry saw the fight or not. Even if Harry did, Zayn hoped at least he would never find out the reasons why. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, not all of them are my friends.” And then he recalled what Harry yelled at him a few minutes ago. “But-I’m just curious, you and Louis are acquaintance?”

Harry hesitated for a moment, and then put down his cup. “There are all kinds of jerk in the world. And he is the only one in his category named Louis Tomlinson.”

“What has he done?”

“Shits.” Harry answered shortly, lying down in his bed. Zayn didn’t want to keep invading. He put his palm on Harry’s warm face, whispering tenderly. “Well then, just sleep.”

“Uhmmm. Wait.” Harry mumbled, catching Zayn’s arm before he left. “Read…read something for me.”

Zayn looked at him with surprise, then he chuckled and said, “What? Do you still need bed-time stories?” He thought Harry would get mad at him again, but the curly haired kid didn’t. Instead, he kept on holding Zayn’s hand and hissed, “Please.”

He couldn’t reject Harry’s request, not when Harry was acting that way. Zayn sat down by his side, picking up the first book on the floor.

 

_An unbelieving smile flits on your eyes when I come to you to take my leave._

_I have done it so often that you think I will soon return._

_To tell you the truth I have the same doubt in my mind._

“Tagore.” Harry murmured in his sleep. A slight smile was hung at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. He’s my favourite.” Zayn put his hand on Harry’s cheek again, feeling his breathing around his fingers.

 

_For the spring days come again time after time; the full moon takes leave and comes on another visit, the flower come again and blush upon their branches year after year, and it is likely that I take my leave only to come to you again._

_But keep the illusion awhile; do not send it away with ungentle haste._

_When I say I leave you for all time, accept it as true, and let a mist of tears for one moment deepen the dark rim of your eyes._

_Then smile as archly as you like when I come again._


	12. Chapter 12

Harry was staring at him when Zayn opened his eyes. Zayn took a deep breath, turning around in the sheet dizzily. But then his action was trapped as he realised that his arm was under Harry's shoulders. So then he faced at Harry again, blinking quickly and asking, "What time is it?"

"Almost 11." Harry's morning voice sounded like an unpolished pearl.

"How long have you been awake? You should've waked me up." Zayn frowned and struggled to sit up, but Harry still occupied his arm. He had no choice but lying down again. "Curly, I've missed my Statistics class. Don't you have classes too? You haven't been to school for 3 days."

"As if you actually want to go. Also, I'm a patient. Better stay in bed all the time." Harry smirked wickedly, "You can't change what has been done so shut up and accept the result."

Zayn sighed with a smile, placing his hand on Harry's forehead. His fever had been brought down after a night. But Harry resisted leaving the bed like a little child. Zayn's arm had been numb; even so he still didn't ask Harry to move away.

"I think we should start talking about  _Pride and Prejudice_." Ten minutes later when Zayn began feeling his arm falling apart from his body, he said. Harry giggled with his eyes closed, "Yeah, alright."

"Alright."

"Hmmm."

In the following hour, neither of them had got out of the sheets until Zayn finally couldn't stand the pain and pushed Harry toward the wall, which made Harry attack back by hitting him in the face with his pillow. Both of them ended up rolling down the bed and falling on Harry's book towers. Whilst his face was covered by a copy of  _L'Étranger_ , Zayn sensed Harry's weight was above him, with his lips touching on Zayn's cheek like a dewdrop falling into the river.

"What?" he laughed.

Harry shrugged, standing up from the mess. " _Quand Raymond m'a donné son revolver, le soleil a glissé dessus_."

"Page 90." Zayn smiled, as the sun came down in the way between Harry and him. He couldn't see Harry's face, but Zayn knew he's also smiling back.

✸

Even though Zayn claimed that he didn't want to skip the Accounting class in the afternoon, he still stayed aside Harry even till the sun had already disappeared from the horizon. Sometimes he buried himself with Harry's paper pals; sometimes he stared at his empty canvas with his painting brush floating in the air; sometimes he raised up his head watching Harry roving around the room in his skinny jeans as the ivory earphones bouncing on his chest; sometimes he leaned on the bookshelf walking down the garden of Longbourn along with Lady Bennet.

"Who is your favourite character?" Recalling their project, Zayn asked Harry who was focusing on his laptop.

"Mr. Darcy." Harry answered curtly.

"Really?" Zayn widened his eyes, "I thought it would be Elizabeth."

"Lizzy is fabulous. She can step on everyone's face with her high heels and watch them cry." Harry tapped on his keyboard absent-mindedly, "Mr. Darcy is a dick. But he's awesome, in some way. I adore that."

Zayn snorted to his respond, "So you adore him because he's an asshole."

"A special one." Harry shrugged, "He doesn't give a shit when he still gives a shit. He could have kicked Wickham's ass and leave him fucking die alone. But he chooses to punch Wickham in the face with piles of cash. He's the coolest asshole ever."

"I wonder how Mr. Schwaltz would react if you write down the exact same sentences in our project." Zayn pretended to write down the title in the air, " _Pride and Prejudice: A Study in Assholes._ "

"He won't be surprised. I've done the same thing in the first class." Harry shut his laptop. Zayn chuckled, "That paper? What did you say, seriously?"

"On the one about  _Dracula_ , I told him it was basically a smut in disguise."

"Holy fuck, you didn't!"

"I did. He actually asked me if I'd like to grab a tea after class." Harry paused for a second, and added hesitantly, "With you."

"Huh?"

Harry slid down his chair and moved himself next to Zayn, "He likes your answers. The day when you were knocked out by hangover, he said he was glad to know we're going to share the project together because he really appreciated our papers. He wanted to know if we'd like to have a small meeting. But I rejected the invitation because I fucking hated you at that moment."

Zayn gave out a dry laughter, "I guess so. Sorry about that."

"Nah. I know you fucking hated me too."

"Uhm, that's truth though." He put his arm around Harry's neck, bumping their shoulders together. "Kinda like Lizzy and Darcy."

"Well, that's...that's a weird metaphor."

The atmosphere turned awkward immediately. Zayn giggled nervously and let go his arm. He remembered the kiss Harry left on his cheek in the morning that they didn't talk about afterwards. And it made his face feel like burning after 3 glasses of whiskey.

But the embarrassment didn't last too long when they both hear the thunder rumbled over the peaceful night. Zayn turned around to look at the window. A sudden shower had been falling on the ground.

"Oh shit." He grumbled out, "It's gonna be a handful when I'm going back to the dorm."

However, Harry wasn't paying attention to him. His eyes sparkled in excitement, with a big smile on his face like a child who saw numerous presents under his Christmas tree. "It's raining!" He shouted delightedly. Zayn faced at him with confusion, "As if you've never seen it in your life."

"Let's go outside!"

Harry grabbed Zayn's arm and stood up abruptly, dragging him straight toward the door. "What are we going to do?!" Zayn yelled behind him, but Harry didn't reply. They trotted down the stairs briefly, without a second for Zayn to gasp in fresh air. When they finally reached the ground floor, Harry loosed Zayn's hand and then rushed into the rain.

"What the hell?!" Zayn exclaimed, "Are you being fucking serious, you just got a fever yesterday!"

"Shut up, you damn stupid spoiler!" Harry shouted back with a huge laughter. "You should join me!"

"Being exposed in such a heavy rain? No way!"

"Please!" Harry begged in a happy pitch, "This is the  _first_  time I do this with somebody else!"

Zayn hesitated, but Harry's words were so clear that he couldn't neglect it. So he stepped forward, carefully, as if he was going to get through the looking-glass like Alice when she explored the different world. Actually, there was no difference when Zayn felt the first raindrop hitting on his body. Alice never knew there was an incredible kingdom hidden right behind her ordinary mirror. It was the same, when the gate was opened for Zayn. And he saw Harry, spinning in the middle of his own world, smiling at Zayn to welcome his first ever visitor.

"It is great, isn't it?" Harry opened his arms and laughed. Zayn had never seen him be much happier than now. He's doing his own mystery dancing, and almost tripping himself when he stepped into a puddle.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done." Zayn caught his arms when Harry nearly fell over. "You've done lots of dumb things in your life, and this is the best choice you've made so far." Harry cheered and started to twirl with Zayn. "It's a pity that you don't understand how wonderful this is!"

"I'm trying."

He's not going to lie. Harry's joy was mixing with the rain and wind, pouring down from Zayn's head and permeating into his veins. He wasn't sure if he would still like this so much without Harry jumping idiotically around him.

"We'd probably both get a cold, dumbass." He shouted as loud as he could over the thunders.

"I thought you're one of those who don't like to disappoint people!" Harry giggled. Zayn yelled back with laughter, "But you tell me to be myself."

"And that's what you're doing now, fucker."

Zayn couldn't stop laughing. He missed this feeling-maybe he didn't, because this was a whole new emotion to him that he had never experienced in his life. The first time that he left everything behind and didn't care about anything at all. He had never been so free, so relaxing, so uncontrolled and so  _real._  He had been a perfect son, an obedient student and a considerable friend. But for the first time he could eventually be Zayn Malik, be the one self that didn't need to worry about what people expected him to be.

When he's finally aware, he had already joined Harry's movement and bounding along the bushes in front of the building. There was no music, but Zayn could nearly hear some 60s rock and roll playing on the LP player while the 33 RPM vinyl was spinning above like a classic waltz. The sound of the rain was so clear yet so far away, but it didn't matter. Zayn held Harry's hand tightly, as if he would disappear anytime soon. He wanted to share the moment with nobody but Harry, only Harry. Every second right now was golden. He didn't want to lose it.

"Let's play a game!" Harry hollered out happily.

"What?"

"It's to take turn calling out the name of someone here, but it can't be yourself!" He declared the ridiculous rules. Zayn couldn't help but complain, "But here are only-"

"Start from me! Zayn!"

The one who just got called mumbled reluctantly, "This is pointless!"

"Come on! You're ruining the game!"

Zayn knew it was his only option. He shook his head slightly and uttered, "Harry."

"Can't hear you, Zayn!"

"Ha-rry." He smiled and emphasised.

"Could be better. Zayn!" Harry started rotating in the rain again. "HA-RRY." Zayn followed the request and screamed. "Zayn!" "Harry!" "Zayn!" "Harry!"

He pulled Harry closer, to feel the heat whenever Harry called his name out loud. Harry's arms were crossing around his waist. Zayn could even count how many raindrops were floating down his fringe. His small figure was inside Harry's light green pupil. It was blurring but Zayn felt like he had never seen himself so much clear ever. Harry's laughter was an endless song playing inside his body that he would never bother to press the pause button. "Harry." They didn't even remember it was whose turn. "Zayn." They could keep on this game till forever, till their voices broke, till it was not just a game to them anymore. Right now all Zayn saw was Harry, and his rosy lips breathing out Zayn's name like the lyrical poem. And then he leaned in to stop the rhythm.

He couldn't hear the rain; he couldn't hear anything else irrelevant. The moment was timeless. It was being pulled out from the river of years. Now it was as free as both of them, right at the point when their lips were pressing together. Zayn didn't want to open his eyes, but he couldn't help wondering how beautiful Harry was like at this very second. His hand was shivering inside Harry's wet curls, while Harry's freezing fingertips were around his chin. Everything was in silence except for their heartbeats were still keeping on the game, constantly calling out each other's name. Zayn was tipsy as he tasted Harry's lips softly and gently. He didn't know what else he could get, and he didn't really have anything more to ask for. Because by the time he had finally founded two of the most precious things to him: himself, and the one who found himself.


	13. Chapter 13

They didn’t realise how cold the air was until they hastened into the house. The water drops glided down Zayn’s neck, following his collarbones and then traveling down the lines of his body. He fixed his eyes at Harry in his semi-transparent shirt. Every time Harry panted, he could see his skin appearing indistinctly underneath the thin nylon material. Catching his gaze, Harry looked up with his cheeks turning coral pink.

“This is nonsense.” Zayn gasped.

“What?” Harry flipped away his damp fringe and frowned.

“You.” Zayn said. The water shield covered above Harry’s body had irritated him in a sensual way. He narrowed his eyes and stepped forward. “I find it so hard to understand you, despite how much I want to. You are like a book that I could never predict the plot in every chapter. It doesn’t even feel like I’m reading a book, more like the book is reading me. And it is nonsense that-that nobody has ever—”

“Shut up.” Harry cut his sentence abruptly. A raindrop floated passing the corner of his eye as he blinked. Zayn paused and watched Harry stroll toward him slowly. The scene was as unreal as the camera movement in movies. It was so slow that Zayn could even see every frame on the film clearly. He held his breath, in case his inhale and exhale ruined this artistic moment, until Harry got closer and closer, close enough that Zayn could see the fog in his green eyes.

“Kiss me.” Harry whispered.

Zayn didn’t hesitate. But his action was as slow as Harry’s path. He closed his eyes before touching Harry’s lips—why did people always do that when giving a kiss? Zayn had to try his best to hold back the urge of opening his eyes to watch every single action Harry did when he moved his tongue between Harry’s teeth. For a moment there was even a crazy idea. He wanted to memorize this moment as a portrait on his empty canvas. This was art. This kiss was art. This boy was art.

He lowered his fingers down to Harry’s jeans as Harry shifted his hands below Zayn’s soaking shirt. Zayn had not been familiar with this kind of touching for a long while. Harry noticed his tremble and opened the eyes. “Zayn,” he groaned, “You don’t have to—”

But Zayn didn’t let him finish. He bent over for another kiss, pushing Harry down on his bed. Some of Harry’s well-arranged books were crumbled when his back was smashed into the sheets. Harry made an unhappy grumble, but was soon distracted as Zayn kept on leaving imprints from his neck to his chest. Their wet clothes pasted on their skins compactly that they nearly forgot their existence.

Harry tilted up his nape, kissing Zayn back roughly to force him twisting his body to the sideway. Harry zipped down Zayn’s jeans before he could unbutton his own shirt. He put his palms around Zayn’s waist, leaving hickeys from Zayn’s belly to his hipbone. It felt like searing as his warm lips contacted with Zayn’s icy skin. Harry’s wet hair made him shudder when Harry slid down his boxers and face between his thighs.

“Have you tried this before?” Harry asked, in his iconic raspy voice.

“Yeah. But never with a boy.” said Zayn.

“Alright.” Harry mumbled, “Just relax.”

Zayn had to bite his lips to prevent himself asking Harry the same question. He didn’t really care if Harry had fucked another guy before, but his curiosity still tickled his heart even when Harry put him inside his mouth.

Harry was gentle. He took Zayn in slow enough that Zayn even wondered if that was a tease. In some ways, it was. He looked up at Zayn. Green eyes sparkled with a smirk when his tongue was tipping on the top. So Zayn stared back while moving forward with an unexpected jerk. Harry was tearing out a bit as he choked on Zayn’s action. He squinted at Zayn reproachfully, and then abandoned his smooth plan to a harsh way.

“Damn it.”

Harry made a satisfied sound and opened his mouth to let Zayn got deeper into his throat. He supported his body up whilst his lips were getting lower to Zayn’s shoving. The raindrops falling from his forehead kept bothering him when he tried to concentrate on the sucking. So Harry frowned impatiently, which made Zayn cock even harder along with Harry’s licking. Zayn knew he was not able to last too long.

He placed one hand on Harry’s head to control his tempo, but Harry’s curls were too wet that he had to squeeze his fingers in case Harry escaped from his fist. Harry gave out a torturous groan and made his motion faster. Zayn didn’t want to let Harry take the place of dominance, but he couldn’t convince his body under Harry’s skillful work.

“Fuck-Harry.”

It didn’t goes with the plan as Zayn thought he could handle. Harry closed his eyes when Zayn relived inside his mouth. He didn’t stop sucking while swallowing carefully until he felt sore in his cheeks. He moved back his head lingeringly while his tongue was still around Zayn’s cock.

“You-you-” Zayn gasped briefly, trying to stay his mind clear, “You are-you are really good.”

Harry took off his wet shirt to wipe his mouth, “Keep that for later.” He smirked, panting under his laughter. “Read for experiencing the better?”

“Fuck you.”

“Yes. I know. Be patient.” He giggled and leaned forward to give Zayn a kiss on his cheekbone. Zayn travelled down his hands to undo Harry’s tight jeans. He knew Harry was as hard as him when he gave him another passionate kiss. Zayn pushed Harry down, roaming his hands upon Harry’s chest to keep the foreplay longer despite the pain between his legs. He gave up eventually when he realised how childish it was. He wanted Harry, right now. He had no time to wait.

“That’s all?” Harry laughed naughtily when Zayn sat up for his next step.

“Shut up and save your voice.” Zayn stared at him as Harry laughed again. “On your left hand, first drawer.”

Zayn gave him an aggressive kiss to stop his laughter before bending over for the items. Harry still smiled at him while he was arranging himself. Zayn was a little embarrassed. Somehow he felt like Harry had been experiencing the same nights without him. But he didn’t want to have those thoughts invading him at this moment. He glanced at Harry. The raindrops were all over his body like a starry sky. And it was nonsense, just like what he had told Harry. It was nonsense how he had been staring at this sky and never thought about owning it for at least one night. Just one fucking night.

“Do you need help?” Harry teased when Zayn tossed the lube.

“Are you always so wordy when having sex?” Zayn was a bit irritated, even though his annoying behaviour had turned Zayn on in some specific way.

“Well, it works on you.” Harry grinned, “Come on.”

“You’re so awful.”

Zayn exhaled out as he tilted Harry’s hip up to move into his entrance. He tried to make it softly and tenderly, just like how Harry treated him. He felt Harry’s warmth around him as he pushed in slowly. The water drops on his body had almost evaporated with his rising temperature. Zayn held his breath. He didn’t want to let it interrupt the rhythm that Harry was making. Harry closed his eyes again, budging his legs to adjust the position. Zayn couldn’t help but moan out as he went deeper.

“Za-Zayn.”

Harry called out his name subconsciously. And Zayn answered him by whispering Harry’s name beneath his breath. It seemed like that they had returned to the rain again, dancing in the shower candidly and liberally. And there was their game, the game to remind themselves that they were still alive, just around each other. And Zayn had never been more alive than before.

“Oh God.”

He couldn’t even recognise it was Harry or him who let out the groan. Zayn almost forgot to be patient that he could see water in Harry’s eyes. But his body was a bit too free, too uncontrolled. He was greedy, thirsty for more from Harry. He didn’t want to stop. Harry’s breathing was going heavier and heavier, and his voice nearly crack when they both got closer. When he came it didn’t even feel real. He had to touch Harry again and again, to make sure all these feelings weren’t just a dream, to make sure they were both at the same place, panting at each other as their souls were mixing together. In the rain, in the air, in everywhere.

✸

When Zayn walked out the bathroom, Harry was on the floor trying to save his books that got wet as they were trying to break the bed. He opened the books and placed them on the table, looking a little bit provoked with this little tragedy. Zayn stepped forward and threw his arms around Harry’s. The towel on his waist almost dropped.

He pressed his lips on Harry’s ear, biting his lobe teasingly till Harry cracked a smile. “Stop that.” Harry giggled, but didn’t push him away. So Zayn turned him around, giving him a proper kiss. And then they both fell back into Harry’s bed again.

The rain was still continuing. But Zayn didn’t bother to go back to the dorm. Harry had changed the sheet while he was in the shower, but the water in their hairs damp the cloth again. Even so they decided to neglect the fact. The heat between their bodies was too endearing to tear them apart.

They kept on hugging and snogging before they finally decided to go to sleep. Harry leaned his head against Zayn’s shoulder. His fingers were crossing tightly with Zayn’s. It brought up a smile on Zayn’s face, and he moved forward to leave a kiss on Harry’s forehead.

And then he twisted his neck to face at the nightstand beside Harry’s bed. It took him a few seconds to realise what caught his attention. The ivory earphone was lying messily on the top, gazing back at Zayn as he blinked with an idea popping up in his mind. He extended his arm to reach the earphone, putting them inside his ears, just like the night under the tree in the campus.

The raindrops kept on knocking on the window, along with Harry’s frequent respiration. He heard his own breathing too, and his heart stroking his chest in the beat of kettledrum. And he heard the same rhythm as he pulled Harry closer, the same rhythm under his skin and floating in his veins. It was so clear, so clear that he couldn’t get rid of them in his ears.

And then he understood.

“Harry,” he whispered with a smile, “I can hear it.”


	14. Chapter 14

It wasn’t easy for Zayn to get out of the bed in the morning. So when he woke up with Harry still sleeping by his side, he was a little bit surprised. It was 7 in the morning; the sky looked like a napkin damped with blueberry juice, and it made Zayn feel dazed. He stretched his arms out of the sheet warily not to wake up the boy beside him. But just when he shifted his body down the bed, a hand caught his shoulder to stop him from moving.

“Where are you going…?” Harry murmured, looking tiredly at him.

Zayn smiled, removing his fingers gently, “It’s not like I won’t be back, silly.” He turned around to touch Harry’s sleepy eyelids tenderly with his lips. “But I really need to go to school, for God’s sake.”

“Right,” replied Harry reluctantly, lowering his forearm down. Zayn got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom. His clothes were hanged on the shower curtain rod right next to Harry’s and still half-wet after all night long. Zayn raised his head and gazed at the mirror. Comparing to all the items arranged in order neatly, the mirror was full of water stains. Zayn moistened his hand with water and wiped and clean area on its surface until he saw his reflection. A weird thought came into his mind: Harry probably never wanted to see himself in the mirror.

Then he stepped out of the door. Harry had sat up in his bed absent-mindedly. He rubbed his eyes as Zayn walked to him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. But Harry blocked him with his fingertips. He twisted his head, gasping in a husky voice, “When will you be back?”

“Harry—” Zayn frowned slightly, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

It blossomed out a smile on Harry’s face. He grasped Zayn’s chin to pull him closer, covering Zayn’s mouth with his soft lips before saying goodbye. And Zayn had a feeling in urge. He didn’t like this feeling. And he didn’t like this goodbye.

✸

“Holy motherfucking shit, you are back!” Niall nearly jumped up from his seat when Zayn walked into the room. He rushed toward Zayn and gave him a passionate hug that almost tripped Zayn off. “Mate, you haven’t been here for two days! Where did you go for craics? Kinda bored without you around!”

“Well..ugh, just went seeing a friend.” Zayn stuttered and explained. Despite the doubt in his expression, Niall still shrugged as an acceptance. “Alright! Tell me more when you’re willing to.”

Zayn tried not to make his relief too obvious. He headed toward his table to arrange random stuffs and asked, “So, have I missed anything while being away?”

Niall’s laughter cracked a little bit, which made Zayn turned away in confusion. The Irish blonde gave him a nervous smile when he saw the question in his eyes, “Uhm, you know, after that accident in the cafeteria…Max-Max isn’t really happy about you.”

“It would be shocking if he didn’t act like that.” Zayn snorted. But Niall still looked worried. “But seriously, Zayn. He is one of the most popular footballers on the school team. Even though you’re still in Louis’ friendzone, who knows what they would do to you when you’re alone?”

“Are they really that bored to waste their time on me instead of hooking up chicks in club?” Zayn threw some books back to his bookshelf impatiently.

“Well, people don’t usually get punched in the face, especially for someone like Max.”

Zayn didn’t reply. In spite of how much he didn’t want to care, he knew Niall’s warning was reasonable. It was not a clever decision for him to be an enemy against the famous guy in the school. He had always been keeping himself away getting involved in unnecessary troubles. But this time he felt like he had got into way more troubles than he did in the past years of his life.

✸

It took Zayn a whole day to keep up with the courses he had missed, bustling around the whole campus to hand in projects, explaining and apologising for his absence. In the evening he felt like he had been to every corner in the campus.

He didn’t meet Harry, even though it was not surprising. Harry used to be everywhere before their relationship built. And it seemed like Harry had gradually faded out from the school after they got closer. It’s obviously that Harry was trying to avoid him, and part of him was doing the same thing. They could still make out behind the door of Harry’s flat, but after stepping out they soon became strangers as if they didn’t know each other existed.

Sometimes he still wished Harry could pop up from nowhere when he turned into the next block, giving him a long “Hiiiiiiii” or teasing him with random annoying stuffs.

But it didn’t happen, which even turned out to be worse.

When Zayn saw the bright football uniform, he knew it was too late for him to flee away. Max and his teammates were right in front of him. There wasn’t enough time for Zayn before they caught him in their sights.

“Well well well, look who is this?”

Max strolled toward Zayn in a lazy path. A quirky smirk was on his face even though his eyes were not smiling. His lads also fixed their attention on Zayn, not giving him a chance to escape. “My friend and I have been looking for you for a couple days. Where on Earth did you go?”

“What, you missed me?” Zayn snorted and stared back. Max narrowed his eyes, not responding to his provoking. “So how have you been?” Max threw his hands in the air and faked a concerned expression, “Being good with your little slut—what’s his name again? What kind of prostitute name did he get for himself?”

The rest of the footballers laughed. Zayn fisted his hand in the pocket.

“You look a bit lonely, mate. How so? Your man is too busy sucking different dicks?” Max stepped forward as his teammates followed. Zayn ignored him, glancing at all of them and asked, “What do you guys want anyway? Gathering together like gangsters in high school? How old are you?”

They all stopped laughing. Max still gazed at him with a smile. But the next second, he felt a strike in his stomach. Before Zayn could react, there was another punch in his back that hit his knees onto the ground.

“I agree it is a little bit old school,” Max’ cold voice came into his ears slowly, “But they are quite efficient, aren’t they?”

Zayn didn’t reply, he didn’t want to make a single sound during the violence. He clearly knew he was not going to beat all these tough guys around him. But he didn’t want to satisfy them, especially when they brought up Harry to the conversation again.

“You don’t wanna say something this time?” Max made a surprised sound as he kicked on Zayn’s arm, “Doesn’t want to stand up for your boyfriend again? Why? Because he didn’t swallow?”

They burst out into laughter again. Zayn bit his lips harshly that he could even taste a little blood in his mouth. He was mad at his weakness. He was mad that no matter how furious he was, he could still do nothing to their attack, and Max’ detestable words.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?”

A voice interrupted their actions. Some of the guys suddenly stepped back when they realised whom the voice belonged to. Zayn could hardly open his eyes, but he soon recognised the tone before Max yelled back anxiously, “What are you doing here?”

“That’s my question to you, asshole.” Louis’ tone was powerful and cold, “Leave him alone and fucking get lost, now.”

Louis was the shortest within all the people, but nobody was against his order. Despite how angry he was, Max still understood that no one in this school would risk themselves to fuck up with Louis Tomlinson. He turned around wrathfully without saying another word.

“Are you alright?” After making sure the footballers were all gone, Louis stretched out a hand to Zayn.

“Could be better.” Zayn gave him an awkward smile and stood up clumsily, “That’s embarrassing. But thanks.”

“Don’t be,” said Louis, “Do you need to clean up? There’s bathroom.”

Zayn nodded as he followed Louis’ direction. He reached the sink stumblingly with Louis’ help. The water poured down on this head. It reminded him of the rain. It reminded him of the taste in the rain. He twisted the tap and raised his head up to face at the mirror, and then he noticed Louis was still there.

“I would be ok, Louis.” He wiped out the water on his face with his hands, “I have to arrange myself…I don’t think they will be back. You don’t have to stay here.”

However, Louis didn’t respond. He crossed his arms, leaning onto the sink and looking at Zayn. “I need to talk to you.”

Zayn’s hands froze. He still stared at the mirror and asked, “About what?”

“About Harry.”

Something in Zayn’s mind was broken.

He put down his hands slowly, not turning around to Louis. His head ached that he didn’t want to think about anything. “…What if I don’t want to?”

“Then it’s fine. And I won’t mention this to you anymore.” Louis answered calmly.

A voice in his heart was telling Zayn that he should listen. He should just shrug and then wave goodbye at Louis, washing up his face and leaving for Harry’s flat and fucking him against the wall. He didn’t have to keep messing up with himself. He didn’t have to be stressed out by listening to another story that he didn’t want to know.

But when he opened his mouth, the sentence went to the opposite meaning. “What are you gonna say?”

“Something about Harry and…me,” Louis looked away and mumbled, “Which I should have told you a long time ago.”

Zayn didn’t reply.

“I met Harry the first time on my 18th birthday” Said Louis, “My friends and I threw a party at a club far away from out school to keep away from shitty people we knew, also in case our parent would catch us. We met some now pals and hooked up with different girls. Everybody was drunk, and I was also a bit tipsy. And then I saw Harry around the refreshment table.”

Louis took a quick peep at Zayn and continued, “I noticed him because he was alone, comparing to everyone in the room, that was quite odd. So I walked toward him and chatted him up. He didn’t really attention because he was doing some weird experiment—adding fake cockroaches into people’s drinks and counting when they would find out there was something wrong in their cups. I still remember the result, 4 minutes and 27 seconds.”

“What are you seriously going to say?” asked Zayn impatiently.

“Anyway, I fucked him in my coupe afterwards. It was not a comfortable choice for having sex, but Harry was way too good for doing this the first time.” Louis spoke emotionlessly, as if he was narrating a tedious script. “I suggested driving him home, but he slammed my door and walked away. I thought it would be the last time I saw him.”

A waterdrop fell down from Zayn’s fringe. He could almost sense Harry’s temperature cover on his body, and Harry’s teasing whisper beside his ear, “ _Have you tried this before?_ ”

“A few months later I visited that club again. It was not for him, even though I did see him, by the bar, making out with a random man.” His voice cracked a weird sound when he paused, “The bartender said he was there quite often, with different guy everytime. I had a strange feeling toward this.”

“So what are you trying to tell me?” Zayn cut his sentence abruptly. He scratched the edge the sink shivering to control the urge of punching Louis. “Are you just gonna tell me that you got bad vibes seeing him with other men after you took his bloody virginity? That’s why you’re here today, to ask me stay away from him?”

“No, Zayn.” Louis replied serenely, “It was my fault.”

“Your fault what?” asked Zayn fiercely.

“My fault for picking him up at the party,” said Louis, “My fault for bringing him into my car. My fault for taking his clothes off and going inside him. My fault for letting him walk into the dark alone after everything. I should have insisted to let him stay, but I didn’t. It was a common one night stand for me, but it wasn’t to him.”

Zayn muttered, “I don’t understand.”

“Harry needs comfort, Zayn. Even though he never says anything.” Louis walked to him slowly, “But I let him walk away, after making him feel needed once in his life. So he went for other people, but none of them made him stay, just like me.”

Zayn lowered his head, inhaling hastily for more oxygen to clean up his brain. He couldn’t reply with a single word, despite how messy his mind was.

“What _exactly_ do you want to tell me?” He gasped exhaustedly.

“I know you like him, and he likes you too. Not just physically.” Louis replied, “Let him stay. He deserves someone who won’t watch him walking away when he doesn’t want to go.”

Another waterdrop fell on the back of Zayn’s hand, but he was too numb to feel it.

“Well, stupid question,” Louis changed his tone suddenly, “Have Harry ever mentioned about me to you?”

“Yeah,” recalling the evening in Harry’s flat, Zayn responded in a dry voice, “He said you’re a fucking jerk.”

“I am, though.” Louis gave him a bitter smile.


	15. Chapter 15

Zayn hadn’t visited Harry’s place for 2 days. He felt a little bit guilty of that, especially after he sent the text with the lamest excuse he could come up with. Harry didn’t reply, which made Zayn oddly relieved, but also in a slight panic.

He was sort of mad at Louis, for telling him the story that he’d rather never heard about. And Zayn knew it was childish for him to feel like that, and it was even more ridiculous for him to hide from Harry after what Louis told him. He had idea why he made such a stupid decision. But on the other hand, he had no idea how to face Harry, even though there was supposed to be nothing wrong between them.

So he tried to keep himself busy, with his tedious projects and exams. It was common for a college student in the midterm-week that Zayn almost convinced himself what he did was reasonable until he started working on the British Literature project. The deadline was in a week, and they hadn’t finished the final part yet. It was totally ridiculous of him if Zayn decided to keep on this pointless cold war and fail their project.

It was not a big deal. Zayn didn’t even know why this secret could be bothering him so much, as if he never expected Harry to have sex with someone else. But right now he felt terrible, he felt terrible that he wasn’t sure how did that night after the rain goes into the way that he could never predict. And he was afraid, too. He was afraid that he was just another comfort in order to make up for Louis’ mistake.

This thought had been occupying his mind after the conversation with Louis. The harder he tried to get rid of the idea, the more frightened he felt. And then the question came back, the same one rushing into his brain by the night he punched Max in the face: how much did he know about Harry?

He recalled the words Louis said when Liam mentioned about Harry, _“I thought I knew him.”_

Maybe that’s why Louis didn’t ask Harry to stay.

But Zayn didn’t want to; he didn’t want to be the one leaning onto the sink telling another guy about his story with Harry and begging him not to let Harry go again. Because he could tell that Harry had been waiting, and praying, wishing everyone could be his last one. But none of them ever reached their hands to seize Harry’s arm before his figure faded away into distance.

Zayn didn’t want to be one of them.

So when he spotted Harry walking out of a classroom on his way to the library, it didn’t take Zayn too much time to call his name out loud. When Harry turned around, his surprised expression was exactly the same as the one on Zayn’s face. It had been ages since last time they had a proper talk in public, and they actually hadn’t had a real talk for two days.

“What?” Harry didn’t turn his whole body to Zayn. He stared at him with the corner of his eyes.

“Well—ugh—” Zayn hadn’t really planned what he was going to say before calling Harry’s name. He looked back awkwardly, trying to squeeze something out from his throat. “The project…yeah, we-we probably need to finish it as soon as possible.”

Harry nodded lightly. Zayn couldn’t ignore the coldness in his attitude. He knew Harry was mad at him for not showing up for the past days, not even to mention it was after he promised that he would be back soon. Some people walked pass them and gave them a weird look. Harry was being impatient, and he didn’t even look at Zayn now. “I’m gonna go.” He murmured.

“Wa-wait.” Zayn stopped him hesitantly, “I think…I think we need to talk.”

Harry faced at him again and raised his eyebrow, “Interesting.”

“No-I mean,” Zayn gasped, explaining nervously, “There are a lot of things that I’ve never told you, which I think I really should. But on the other hand, I wish-I wish you can also tell me something I do not know about.”

He paused, waiting Harry to respond. But Harry didn’t say a word, just crossing his arms and keeping staring at him.

“Alright, this might sound a bit weird…” Zayn breathed in hastily and continued, “When I was 17 I met this girl called Nadia. She had a long wavy hair down to her waist. The colour of her eyes was really unique—I don’t know how to describe it, they sparkled like topaz. And she had a special accent, I have no idea where it was from, but she always pronounce ‘ur’ as ‘uh’…anyway, I never really talked to her, but the day before the prom night she agreed to go out with me. It was so unreal, I was even thinking if that was a joke.”

Harry still didn’t answer, except there was a little confusion in his eyes.

“The prom night was really boring. Also the air condition was broken and we were all sweating in our clothes. So then she dragged me out of the hall. I followed her lilac dress into the garden, that colour didn’t fit her skin at all… And then we started making out under the weeping willow. I really didn’t know how her dress worked. I couldn’t even find the zip. It was really awful. She was nice enough to fake her orgasm. I called her the next day, but then we never talked again.”

The cold look on Harry’s face was still the same. He blinked quickly and asked, “Why do you think it’s necessary to share the story of your first time with me?”

“I don’t know, to be quite honest.” Zayn sighed frustratedly, “I just think we should be like this more often...sharing stories, whatever they are about, because I have so many things to say, but I don’t know which one to choose, and how to tell. And it freaks me out when I realise how much we don’t understand each other.”

“Or maybe we don’t have to.” Harry replies emotionlessly.

“Harry—”

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do? To keep the space.” Harry glared at him, speaking irritably, “And I figured out it might be a better way. So we don’t have to keep prying into each other’s personal issues. Didn’t you hate that the most? Didn’t you tell me to mind my own business?”

“I was fucked up, Harry.” Zayn started to feel a little bit annoyed as well, “Because before you I only kept my secrets with nobody. I couldn’t find anyone to trust, not even me. I couldn’t even trust myself. And then you were there. I have never been so open-minded with someone else before.”

But Harry snorted with an icy tone, “Why do you think I’m reliable, then? Perhaps you should change your mine—and I feel like you already did.”

“I didn’t and I won’t!” Zayn nearly shouted. His anger had been ignited. “Listen, can’t we forget about the past and move on? I was wrong. We all made stupid decision before, and we all have fucked up! It was your history, I don’t care, just let it be the fucking history forever!”

There was a breath-taking silence between them before Zayn realised what he had said.

“You talked to Louis.” Harry’s voice shivered, “You talked to Louis, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like what you—”

“So it all makes sense now, right? You think I’m fucking disgusting. And that’s why you changed your mind.” Not only was his voice, his whole body was now trembling as well. “And you want me to be honest—be honest about what I’ve done before, so then you can make up your mind much easier!”

“It’s not true!” Zayn yelled back. He didn’t care about how many people were watching them right now.

“It’s not true? Then please explain why you decided to disappear from me for no reason. Oh wait, now we’ve got the reason! I mean, who would be willing to spend his time with a slut like me?” Harry laughed, shoving away Zayn’s hand. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Calm down and let me explain, ok?!”

“Explain what? As if it was not obvious enough? Or do you have more details to add? Just like you say, you have _a lot of_ things to tell me. Is that what you meant?”

“No!” Zayn had been irritated by Harry’s action. He couldn’t even pay attention to his words. “Can you stop being so dramatic? Just listen to me!”

“Dramatic? Dramatic? No! I’m just being honest as you request!” Harry burst out into a louder laughter, “You know what? Fuck you. You are just the same as Louis—no, you’re even _worse_ , because you pretended you cared, and I—but anyway, I don’t care either. That’s whom I really fucking am, isn’t it?—Hey, Ethan!”

Harry suddenly turned away to call out the boy who was just walking by and now looking at both of them confusedly. “Do you want me to suck your dick off? We should spend a great night, trying every position you want.”

“Harry!” Zayn exclaimed angrily, and took a quick glance at the clueless guy who was totally in shock and running away immediately. Zayn was seriously in rage that he even wanted to step forward to slap on Harry’s face. “What’s the fucking wrong with you today?!”

“Everything!” Harry yelled. But Zayn was too mad to notice the sob in his voice. “Everything! Basically everything is all wrong because I make no sense, and nothing makes sense on me! Go away and fucking leave me alone!”

“Whatever!” Zayn shouted as Harry turned around abruptly. Nobody was looking at them now. They all dismissed into various directions when Harry walked straight into the crowd. He never turned back to give Zayn a last look.

For a moment Zayn was almost chasing forward to stop him, he almost recalled what Louis had told him so, but he didn’t make it. Instead, he watched Harry’s back vanishing into all the different faces that came from the opposite way. He could still hear Harry’s shouting in his ears, until they started getting weak, and then washed away by the noise pouring down from the reality. Everything was loud and annoyingly nagging around him, but Zayn couldn’t feel them anymore. He was standing there, shuddering alone in his own empty because he clearly knew what he had just done, but he couldn’t move his body. He couldn’t do anything except for the last thing he wanted to do.

He watched Harry walk away, and he didn’t even try to make him stay.


	16. Chapter 16

Zayn had known that he was a special child since he was very little; not in a negative way, but neither in a positive way.

At the time when every boy started to put on blazing basketball jackets and tease pretty girls in fancy blouses, he was the one who stayed alone in his seat, picking up a book containing vocabularies that were too hard for his age, or doodling on his drawing pad with the only 4 colours of crayons that he owned. Zayn enjoyed moments like that, although he still felt a little bit embarrassed whenever he raised his head with bunches of kids fixing their eyes on him. Most of time he saw curiosity, maybe sort of confusion, and then he would lower his head immediately before seeing the one thing he’s afraid of: judgement.

His mother always said he was too shy as a perfect little boy, and he always blushed whenever his mother kneed down to kiss on his cheek and told him to be confident about who he was. But Zayn never knew how to explain it to his mother that the emotion was not shy—more like, frightened.

Before he learnt the dark side of society, Zayn had already seen a lot of unfair treatments going around his family. Even though he was clueless, it still grew the idea in his mind of how horrible it would be for getting misunderstood. The thought frightened him every moment that he realised the only way to keep himself safe was being submissive. Do not do things that nobody understands.

The first time when he finally got a chance to breathe was when a girl finally took a peep at his works when he was focusing on drawing without being aware that she was right behind him. “That’s amazing! How did you do that?” Her excited high pitch almost made him jump off his chair, and it also gathered the kids around his table. “What is that? Why are you covering your book? Show us!”

In a short hesitance, Zayn moved away his hands slowly to reveal the woman with a rose flower crown on his paper. The surprise and admiration on their faces washed out the panic in his mind. From then on he suddenly became the idol within all the children, and he was no longer lonely when he put his drawing pad on the table. “Can you draw me a kitty?” “Can you draw me a penguin?” “Please draw an alien for me!” “I want a huge robot!” “Can you draw me a castle with a rainbow?” “Can you draw a unicorn?” “Can you draw my daddy?”

And he got another moral from his own story. Zayn realised why art was important to him: because it created the wonderland in everyone’s imagination, it made impossible things possible, and it allowed what were supposed to only appear in dreams to become real. In the world of art there was no rules, no restriction and no one would mistake you because everything you did was reasonable and acceptable. And that’s why he constantly packed his tools and escaped into the world that offered him the real freedom he had been desperate for.

However, as growing up he also confronted the truth that it was not as easy as it used to be whenever Zayn tried to run away into his own paradise. Nowadays he was too afraid to push the gate and danced in his garden. He couldn’t do that. He was not brave enough to free himself from the thought of being judged and being hated. So he kept silence. He kept silence so long that he nearly persuaded himself he didn’t care about the world he had left behind anymore. He had built this kind of guilty pleasure that he didn’t need to lie to anyone, if he lied to himself first.

Sometimes Zayn still tried to remind himself that it was unnecessary to live his life all under people’s visions. But whenever he thought he was ready, taking a deep breath and walking out of his room, he just couldn’t help with the anxiety stroking on his heart as people turned their heads to him. But he still smiled, smiled and nodded politely, like the day he tried tobacco the first time at the root with his secondary school friends, and then hid the cigarette behind his back grinning at the teacher who just walked in. It was all the same that he had been numb to this daily routine.

So he couldn’t believe what he saw when he stepped into Harry’s flat and saw the easel in the corner. It was a sign, or more like an old friend blowing his pipe in a couch, raising his eyebrow as he saw Zayn stare at him in shock, and then chuckled, _hey, dude, where have you been_. At that moment he almost grabbed Harry’s cheeks to kiss him aggressively. He missed this emotion so much that he thought he would never experience it again.

Even though the canvas was still blank, Zayn had been filling up his sketch book everyday from then on. He drew everything, until they became mainly about Harry. Everytime Harry complained about that, he always used the excuse that he didn’t have a model for practicing. And he liked to watch Harry flushing in embarrassment and anger. He captured things about Harry as many as he could, from the sparkles in Harry’s eyes to the line of his body covered under loose shirt and tight jeans. That irritated Harry a lot. At first all Zayn did was laughing because he thought Harry was just shy, till he recalled what was happening on himself because he should have understood it—it was not shy, it was frightened.

Harry was frightened by his own self.

It reminded Zayn of the mirror in Harry’s bathroom, the mirror that could barely show his reflection. How long had Harry been struggling to avoid seeing himself? Did he even remember the colour of his green eyes? Did he even realise there were two shallow dimples showing up on his cheeks whenever he raised the corners of his mouth? Or did he know them so well—but he was too afraid, and even hating to see them because his own existence freaked him out?

How much did Zayn know about Harry?

“Z-Zayn, are you ok…?”

Niall’s worried face was showing up in front of him abruptly. Zayn blinked confusedly. A smile had been put on his face before his brain could react. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Because you have that face again.” Niall shrugged, stepping back a little. His respond made Zayn frown, “What do you mean?”

“The face that you look like a kid outside the candy shop, staring at the display counter so desperately but Mummy said not sweets because they rot your little teeth.” Niall replied fluently, as if he was performing his new poem. Zayn chuckled, sincerely, “It sounds like you’re quite experienced with this situation.”

“I was, actually.” Niall tilted his head and sat down on his bed, “Have I ever told you about this? When I was about 3 or 4, there was an old guy whom we all called him Bob. He owned a small candy shop in my town. I’ve tried a lot of amazing food in the world, but I have to say no one ever beats his Bobby Toffees…They tasted like heaven.”

Niall laughed and continued, “But what exactly made his toffees so unique was not just the flavour. Bob’s son worked in a printing factor, and then they made their own wrapping papers by printing the names of kids in the town on it. So you could go to Bob’s shop, telling him you wanted an Amy candy, or a Josh candy. At that time every kid in the town had the wrapping paper with their own names on, and you’d never know what flavour you’d get.”

Zayn widened his eyes, “That was really adorable.”

“It’s cool as fuck! Sorry for the language. But seriously, it was a trend in the town. But by that moment I was suffering cavities. My mum always kept an eye on me in case I tried to break her rules. That was awful to be honest!” Thinking about the memories, Niall shook his head slowly with a sad expression.

“So…you didn’t get your own wrapping paper?”

“Not really,” said Niall, “My friends knew my problem, so they would go to Bob’s shop buying Niall candy for me. They brought those candies to my window. I was so excited when I got the first candy with my name on—but I just felt like something was weird.”

“Why?”

“I had no idea, to be honest.” Niall replied, “I just feel like…there was a part of my heart feeling empty. I’d got what I wanted, but it was not really the right feeling. It’s like—I was lost. But I didn’t even know what I had lost.”

The familiar line stabbed right into Zayn’s body like a sharp knife.

“So one day when my mum was out for work, I sneaked out of my home and headed to Bob’s shop alone. I was guilty but also excited. When I got the first Niall candy that was actually bought by myself, the emotion was extraordinary…I know it must sound funny to you, but I really felt like I was the first man landed on Mars! And I’d never forget about the flavour, it was hazelnut and strawberry. It tasted just like heaven—have I used that term already? Anyway.” Niall wore a huge smile on his face as he remembered the scene, “My cavities relapsed a few days later and my mum was so mad when she found out what I did. Even so…I don’t know, I was so happy. I was literally happy even though the pain in my teeth was killing me. But hey, I got my own Niall candy! I got my own Niall candy by myself! Who cares about the God damn cavities? Although it was hard to not care about. Also Tom was…”

But Zayn didn’t listen to the next part of Niall’s story. He was still thinking about the wrapping paper, and how Niall insisted to get the candy on his own just because he was lost, and he needed the answer.

He needed the answer.

All of sudden, Zayn stood up from his seat, which shocked Niall and interrupted his story of how he got into a fight with his friend due to a girl. “What the—” But Zayn didn’t let him finish by giving Niall an unexpected big hug. His Irish roommate was totally clueless and flattered, “Wow Zayn…I’ve never known you have your passionate side! What happened to you today?”

“Thanks, Niall.” Zayn didn’t answer his question. His voice was full of joy. “Your toffee theory was awesome.”

“What was that even?”

It took him ages to understand the trap that he had never gone through. Even though he was still not sure about if he could smash the situation, at least Niall had helped him pointed out what he really was looking for. Besides, he missed Harry, a fucking lot.

He wanted to hold Harry’s hands right now, pushing him into Bob’s shop. And when their candies were on the counter, he really hoped Harry would enjoy whatever flavour he got, because that was his toffee, that was him. That was what he deserved to be.


	17. Chapter 17

One of the reasons why Zayn was so attached to reading was that he found books more devoted than people. And it was ironic—since books were created by people as well. But he found that people could hardly lie in their books, despite the fictional stories they told. Words were much more honest than the authors themselves, even if they didn’t really notice it. Just like what Mark Twain said, “Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; truth isn’t.”

So he liked to meet people through books—inside or outside the books. It’s always nice to see a book introducing someone else to him because the acquaintance between them was reliable. And Zayn enjoyed this relationship, a kind of relationship that made him truly comfortable with.

And then there’s Harry.

Harry was an endless book, with countless different stories in every chapter. Most of time the sentences didn’t even make sense, and Zayn found it difficult to understand the context. Even so he still enjoyed spending a whole day flipping over every page because Harry was worth reading. There were always so many narratives to be discovered under his cover.

In the morning Zayn got an Email from Harry, with no subject but a simple file of their British Literature project. Zayn felt like his heart had been dragged down. Even though he had texted Harry a few times, there was never a reply.

Zayn had thought about knocking on Harry’s door again to apologise, but somehow he felt like it was not going to be easy this time. On the other hand, he was also a bit mad at Harry for his temperamental reaction. And then he realised how sensible Harry actually was, despite his emotionless disguise. Harry always told Zayn to be who he really was, but Zayn knew Harry had never completely showed his real side ever, not to Zayn, not to anyone, not even to Harry himself.

And that’s probably why Zayn never understood Harry—because Harry didn’t understand himself either.

✸

Zayn wasn’t really in the mood of communication, so when Perrie walked straight forward to him, he had no choice but forcing a friendly smile on his face. Her hair today was in a gradient from blonde to bright orange, glowing in the sunshine like the flash of fire. He’d have felt the warmth if the empty of Harry didn’t give him coldness inside.

“Good afternoon.” She greeted, putting a pile of heavy books on the desk and sitting down with an exhausted gulp. “This week is killing me. How many subjects of you are still left? I feel like I’m gonna fail my Spanish class.”

“I don’t remember. I’m in a mess recently.” Zayn shrugged, staring at the blackboard lazily. “But on good a good note, you’ve just finished another one today.”

“Luckily I’ve got a great partner.” Perrie chuckled, waving at Jade who just walked into the room. “Are you doing well with that curly bloke, though? I really have no idea how it is like to share a project with someone I can barely communicate with.”

Zayn replied her with a dry laughter to cover the sigh that he almost exhaled out. He didn’t answer, keeping focus on the backboard to neglect the emptiness on Harry’s seat. Zayn wished Harry would show up, even though somewhere in his mind he was still too anxious to look into Harry’s pale green eyes. That was the colour that he couldn’t apply onto his canvas, the colour that made him confused, made him speechless.

“So, which of you are going to do the presentation?” Perrie’s voice interrupted his cerebration. Zayn was not ready for this abrupt question. He turned at her vacuously, “Huh?”

“Your presentation for the project.” Perrie looked at him suspiciously, “Wait, don’t tell me you didn’t prepare for it…did you?”

“I-what-we have to do a presentation?” Zayn stuttered, looking around nervously as if he could find any evidence that Perrie was joking. Unfortunately, he found out that everyone around him was staring at their own project murmuring to themselves. He twisted his head at Perrie again. She frowned while trying to hide the smirk on her face, “Oh my God, didn’t Harry Styles tell you? Unless he decides to make the presentation himself. But I think there is a poor possibility—hey, there he is”

Another stroke attacked on Zayn as he followed Perrie’s words watching the familiar figure replace the vacancy of his seat. The pair of earphones was still hung around his curls. But Zayn couldn’t see his face.

“You should talk to him. Perhaps he doesn’t even recall that.” Perrie suggested.

“I-I-I think I can prepare it from now.”

“What?” Perrie was startled at his answer, panting in shock and confusion, “The class is starting in 3 minutes!”

“As you said, there’s a poor possibility that he’d prepared for it.” Zayn stalled her off with an excuse, not giving another look at Harry’s direction. He wondered if Harry did it on purpose, to embarrass Zayn in front of the whole class as revenge for the unnecessary fight that he brought up between them two. A chilling bitterness slowly spread from his chest, and it was too vivid for him to focus on his project

What’s worse was that he soon realised Perrie was right. The professor was never late and he stepped upon the podium on time again as soon as the bell stopped ringing. Zayn tried to lower his head and hide himself in the shadow of the wall when the professor started speaking.

“I hope you’ve done your nice works. I’m really looking forward to all your presentations.” said Mr. Schwaltz, “It is important to import your soul into the fragrance of ink and papers, so I wish you didn’t feel stressful while finishing this project. On the other hand, I hope you’ve all discovered something that you didn’t know, or didn’t appreciate before. And I’d really like to hear you sharing your experience, about your adventure with your partners in the world of books. So—” The old professor clapped his hands slightly and smiled, “Who wants to be the first one?”

What responded to Mr. Schwaltz’s opening speech was a deadly silence. Everyone was all in sync, looking at their desks to avoid eye contact with the professor. Harry was still holding his jaw, looking at the window when one of his earphones dropped.

“Alright, that was impressive.” The professor wasn’t surprised at the reaction. He bended over to look at the student list on his table, “In that case, I’m afraid I have to call out some of you to start the day for us. Let me see… Malik? Zayn Malik?”

His whole body froze up at the moment his name being called out loudly. Some students were turning around to look at him as Perrie hit on his arm with her elbow. Zayn stood up as leisurely as he could, with his eyes locking on Harry’s nape. Harry was still in the same posture, pinning his sight onto the window stiffly.

“Good luck.” Perrie whispered before Zayn plodded down the stairs. He took a quick peek at Harry when treading by Harry’s tier. His left earphone was still lying on the desk steadily. Zayn forced an awkward smile at Mr. Schwaltz as he reached the floor. He grasped his papers in his fist and was firmly certain that he had already forgotten everything he planned for.

“Like I mentioned before, I’m really looking forward to listen to your stories. Your partner is not coming?” asked the professor genially.

Zayn hesitated, “I-I can complete my part first.” He threw a glance at Harry’s position. The professor raised his eyebrow, and nodded lightly, “Then, what’s the book that you chose?”

“Uh… _Pride and Prejudice_ by Jane Austen.”

Some girls started to giggle. Zayn exerted the strength on grabbing his papers. He knew it was a girly choice within all the books they had mentioned in class, especially when he was working together with Harry, the most unbelievable kid in the whole campus. The professor responded with a friendly grin, “That was unexpected. Why?”

“It was Harry’s idea.” Zayn blurt out immediately and soon regretted. He gave out a nervous gasp and raised his head. But Harry didn’t show any reaction. “Tell us more.” said Mr. Schwaltz when Zayn breathed a frustrated sigh. He glimpsed at Harry again, and then looked down at his project and continued, “I suggested a lot of books, but in the end we both agreed on this one.”

“We realised it has been well-discussed by people in centuries, and it’s particularly popular among girls because Lizzy—Elizabeth is an interesting girl. She is clever, confident, and has a definite mind with herself. Everyone—not just girls, _everyone_ wants to be her. ‘cause everyone wants to be themselves.”

The class was in silence again. Zayn’s voice was precisely clear within the whole room.

“There are pros and cons about being yourself. The good thing is that you see yourself; the bad thing is that you don’t see people. And it doesn’t mean Lizzy is selfish or blind. It’s that her mind sees people before her eyes do. But human being’s mind can be wrong, very easily.” He paused, “But we tend to be easily convinced, too.”

“And Mr. Darcy, he has the same problem as Lizzy. But in some ways, he is more—mystery. People don’t really understand him, and keep on changing their impressions on him, which turns out bad most of time. So does Lizzy.” said Zayn, slowly loosening his fingers around the papers, “He is a bit arrogant and rude, and that irritates Lizzy. He probably finds her annoying in the beginning too because she is different. She is different from all the people he has met in his life. So he finds it disturbing until it becomes attractive to him.”

Harry’s shoulder twisted.

“Lizzy is one of those who are easily affected by first impression. It’s not something uncommon because we usually forget that people have their own stories. So we judge people from the surface, instead of trying to understand.”

Zayn didn’t really remember what he had put into his project, but at the moment these words just streamed out his head like a waterfall. Another earphone in Harry’s ear dropped as well before Zayn opened his mouth again. “That’s why Lizzy rejects him, when Mr. Darcy opens his mind to her. She has accepted the wrong ideas that her mind gives her. But she doesn’t know her thoughts also block her from truth, blocking her from who Darcy really is and what Lizzy herself really wants.”

He didn’t look at his papers anymore, because Harry wasn’t looking at the window either.

“It does take time for her to understand a lot of things, to understand that she is wrong at some points. There are a lot of things that she doesn’t know, and she isn’t trying to know, about Darcy, about herself. And she doesn’t even know why Mr. Darcy fancies her so much.”

His eyes were locked with Harry’s. It was like in a century, a century long that he hadn’t looked into Harry’s pupils for such a long ages. Harry was distances away from him, but now his figure couldn’t be clearer. The expressions on his face were so detailed; confused, mad, surprised, panic, along with a tiny evidence of expectation. Zayn wondered if his face also looked like the same way.

“It takes her so much time to realize that he loves her, and she loves him too.” His voice was low, but crystal clear, “Ironically, if she didn’t experience all of these. She probably would never find out that she was in love. And she probably would never fall in love with Darcy.”

Zayn wasn’t moving his sight, so wasn’t Harry.

“It was a long trip for her. But she finally understands. Despite how long it takes, despite how wrong she was, now she understands. He is proud, he is aloof, he is a bit weird, and misunderstood. But Lizzy sees the real side he doesn’t show. And she loves him. She loves him for who he is.” Zayn whispered, “She loves him even when he doesn’t know how to love himself.”

No one expected what was happening in the next second, not even Zayn himself. When Harry jumped up abruptly, Zayn was shocked and waiting for him to say something. But it didn’t occur because Harry’s following action was totally out of blue. He rushed out the aisles and ran out of the door.

“Harry!”

The quiet room was soon in a commotion. A lot of people stood up and stuck out their heads to make sure what happened. The professor was entirely taken aback and looking at Zayn cluelessly. But Zayn didn’t explain, and he didn’t care about uproar around him. He had made a wrong decision before, and this time he wouldn’t allow himself to repeat the mistake.

He threw the papers on the nearest table and chased behind Harry.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick apology to whoever has been waiting for the update, thank you for all your supporting and I'm so sorry about my slow work! This is my last semester as an exchanged student and I need to work my ass out or my scholarship is gonna wave goodbye at me. On a good news, it also means the semester is going to be over which means I'd be free! Yay! Again, I'm really sorry about that. Whoever is still reading this fic, you mean so so much to me! *spreads you with confetti*

 

 

 

 

 

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."

"And _your_ defect is to hate everybody."

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."

 

_— Pride and prejudice, Chapter 11._

✸

 

Zayn had nightmare frequently. It had been bothering him for so long that he had felt numb when he closed his eyes to welcome the familiar darkness. The scene was always the same days by days, years by years. It began with him standing alone surrounded by emptiness. He couldn’t see the edges, and there was no direction for him to follow. So he started roaming around this desolate land, trying to find an exit before he drowned himself with fright.

And then there was a sign—it was not a light, guidance, or anything else that was concrete enough for him to describe. But he did sense it; he did sense the calling, just like when Santiago sensed Fatima’s kiss carried by the wind in _The Alchemist_. So Zayn started running, running for a summons that he wasn’t even certain about.

But in the end of the dream, he never made it.

“Harry!”

Zayn chased behind Harry down the courtyard. The sunlight was flaring on his back that he could scarcely focus on anything but Harry’s figure in the distance. Harry’s name was igniting his throat frantically, burning out his voice till he could barely make a sound. It didn’t slow him down until Harry almost tripped himself at the parterre. Zayn reached his arm immediately and caught Harry’s wrist at the last moment, which he knew that was going to freak Harry out.

“Leave me alone!” Harry screeched, trying to fling away Zayn’s hand, but it only caused Zayn strengthen his seizing around Harry’s skin. He clearly knew what he was holding in his fist. “No!” Zayn yelled back, “Can’t we just both calm down and talk like a mature grown-up for at least a minute? What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“No, what the fuck is wrong with _you_?!” Harry gave up struggling, turning around all of sudden and staring at Zayn wrathfully. “What are you talk—” asked Zayn confusedly, but his question was soon cut down by Harry, whose cheeks were flushed with complex emotions as he continued to shouting out, “Like—Lizzy and Darcy?! Really? You—you think that funny?! Or did you consider you were—what—very witty? Or humorous?”

Zayn loosed his fingers slightly, blinking at Harry without a clue, “Are you actually angry at _that_? You’ve successfully started the conversation at somewhere I don’t know about.”

“Shut up! I don’t even know what I’m angry at! I’m angry at you, I’m angry at myself, I’m angry at everything around both of us!” Harry whipped out his hand and stepped back, “I was mainly mad at you—because the first second you treated me as if I was someone significant, but soon you realised it was a silly idea of you…and then next second you changed your mind again to start invading me?”

“Pardon me while I interrupt your baffling speech, but apparently you were the one who began to invade—”

“Yes! Thanks for bringing onto the point! That’s the reason I’m angry at myself because why the fuck do I care about you?” Harry wrapped his neck with his palms, choking on his own breath.

Zayn gave out a sigh, stretching his hand for Harry again. His reward was nothing but a glare. “Listen,” he gasped exhaustedly, “We’re neither sensible as Lizzy nor clever as Mr. Darcy. All we’ve been doing is squealing at each other like those kids in McDonald’s. And we’re not going to deal with anything if we keep acting that childish.”

“I’m not childish.”

“Of course we aren’t, or we’d have known what we really want instead of hating and hurting one another!” Zayn exclaimed as Harry fended him off impatiently, “You know what our problem is? We kept isolating ourselves in our own strongholds, but then we also somehow broke into each other’s. And it’s ridiculous that for the first time I’ve ever decided to share my place with someone who trapped himself in a bookshelf with a rabbit.”

Harry cried out, “Ted has kicked the bucket!”

“I hope his ghost came to your flat at midnight and kicked on your forehead too.” Zayn riposted tersely, not giving Harry a brief moment to protest, “I am a fucking idiot, and I never have enough determination to admit that. I thought it was a way to maintain the balance—avoiding people so they wouldn’t come back to me. It always works except for you. The consequence of avoiding you is that I…I…I keep coming back to you.”

He paused curtly to catch his breath before running out of all the fresh air in his lungs. Harry was about to utter something, but ended up widening his eyes at Zayn with his lips trembling. “What do you expect me to do?” asked Harry after a long hesitance, “As you said—I don’t have Lizzy’s confidence and innocence; I don’t have Mr. Darcy’s generosity and courage. We’re not written in a book that could be re-done whenever things go wrong! We’re just non-stop repeating all the same quarrels over and over again that we can hardly roll into the last page because there is no ending waiting for us!”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Zayn stepped forward, “There’s no ending? Great, because nobody every fucking says that he wants an _ending_!”

“I—”

“Don’t you dare. We’re in this trouble together and there is no way to escape, you’d better accept that.” Zayn shot his words intractably, watching Harry scowling at him irritation. “Since when did you get the right to make the order?” Harry grunted harshly.

“Well,” Zayn replied in a slow path, “ _I am a very selfish creature._ ”

A flash of sneer flickered over Harry’s face as he squinted at Zayn’s answer, “Are you trying to show off now?”

“Explain it in all the ways you want, but I am serious, Harry.” Zayn fixed his eyes at Harry’s, lowering his pitch into a different rhythm. “ _I am a very selfish creature; and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours._ ”

Harry put his hands on the hips; a smirk was gradually blooming despite how hard he tried to hold it. “If you think I am going to apologise to you in that way, then you’re exceedingly wrong.”

“I won’t blame you for unable to remember the script.” Zayn shrugged unabashedly. Harry couldn’t help but crack into laughter, “Pretentious.” He muttered a trifling grumble, glimpsing at Zayn with a slight simper.

“Excuse me for that, but it is my favourite chapter.” Zayn’s fingertips traced down Harry’s fringe as if it was the page inked with those delicate sentences. The warmth that Harry exhaled on his skin made the sense much more realistic. “If you forgot his line…” he narrated in a peaceful tone, “ _I am sorry, exceedingly sorry._ ”

Harry giggled in a pleasing melody, “Stop it! It’s so weird”

“That the wish of giving happiness to you,” Zayn ignored him and continued fluently, “might add force to the other inducements—”

“—which led me down,” the sentence was finished by Harry abruptly. He flipped away Zayn’s hand and chuckled, “I shall not attempt to deny.”

“I believe,” Zayn beamed a smile, leaning closer and whispering, “I thought only of _you_.”

Before Zayn accomplished his action, Harry’s lips had already encountered his in a hurry that Zayn could barely react at the moment. After a short period of vacancy, he pressed his strength against Harry and almost forced both them fall onto the ground. Harry pushed back right away that bumped their collarbones together as if they were going to squeeze out all the air between their bodies. Zayn couldn’t stop wondering how long they had been falling apart which even made Harry tasted different under his tongue. His pulse was so strong and vivid that he could discern the kiss everywhere in his veins. It was so similar but also so disparate from that pluvial embrace surrounded by thunder and dim starlight; the night where he spread his temperature all upon Harry’s skin and engraved every moan of Harry on his bones. It was as far as a century and Zayn couldn’t believe how he survived all these days without touching Harry’s spine and hustling between his thighs. He couldn’t believe that he actually connived himself to neglect how much he craved for the existence of Harry, how desperately he needed Harry to breathe aside him.

“Are you…” Harry groaned into Zayn’s following kiss, “…gonna fuck me right here?”

Zayn bit Harry’s bottom lip softly and replied with a lazy voice, “Do you want that to happen?”

“Hmm, might as well.”

“Then don’t think I won’t.”

“Nasty.” Harry cackled and pushed him away, “I’m going to tattoo that on my hipbone.”

“I bet you will.” Zayn laughed and raised his head at the clock tower, “And I bet we’re going to fail this class. Don’t you think we should go apologising to the professor? At least explain what we were…were…ugh…it must be a lot of fun.“

Harry didn’t look at him, replying in an easy tone, “I don’t think we need to explain.”

Zayn turned around to his confusing respond and followed Harry’s sight. Once the two girls at the corridor met their eyes, they dropped the phones into their bags and fled away immediately.

“Shit” that’s the first word blurted out from Zayn’s mouth. On the contrary, all Harry did was bending over and leaning his lips to Zayn’s ear, “So,” his voice was full of pleasure, “you still wanna fuck me now?”

✸

 

The bright red jersey was easily spotted on the field even from a long distance, which successfully caught Zayn’s attention directly when he was on the way returning to the classroom with Harry. The sunlight in the afternoon was blazing, but Zayn couldn’t mistake that face at any chance. All of sudden, an idea was brought up to his mind.

“Wait here.”

Harry gave him a questioning glance, yet Zayn didn’t explain. He headed straight toward the filed, shuttling through the clueless footballers that were doing their regular practicing. Some of them hollered at him, but Zayn didn’t stop by until he approached the guy beside the goal net, who gave Zayn a frightened glare when he raised his head.

“Th-the fuck do you want?!” Max nearly jumped up from the ground when he noticed Zayn was standing right next to him with a dreadful look. His teammates started gathering when they heard Max’ shouting, but gave up on their action as soon as they recognised Zayn’s face. None of them had forgotten Louis’ threat.

“If you think you can come here to mess around ‘cause you think I dare not to—”

“Shut the fucking hell up.” Zayn ended his words brusquely, “I did put that in my consideration list, but I changed my mind since there’s no point to waste my fist on such a coward like you, and you’re not going to learn anything from that. So the reason I’m here today—” He strode forward that made all the footballers step backward automatically, “—is to congratulate you on the fact that despite your pathetic brain, you are still unbelievably right on a few things.”

“What—”

“First: Yes, I _do_ fancy Harry Styles. Second: Yes, he _is_ my boyfriend. Third: Yes, he did give me a blowjob.” Zayn finished the sentence hastily without a pause for him to chill and reform his choice of words. But he didn’t feel any regret especially when he saw the shock written on everyone’s expression.

“Apart from them, all those things you said were tragically wrong.” Zayn continued with a relatively calm voice, “I don’t completely understand him…honestly I don’t think anyone ever would…but you need to acknowledge that your assumption on him was wrong at every level. Not gonna lie, I was wrong as well. But you have no right to say a shit before you even try to access the real him. And you’d better keep that in your mind forever. Last but not least—” he added before turned away from Max’ speechless face, “—he _does_ swallow. And I bet no one has ever done that for you.”

✸

 

Harry raised his eyebrow when Zayn climbed up the stairs to his direction. He crossed his arms, gazing at Zayn with his head twisted aside. “What?” Zayn asked and pat Harry’s forehead softly. The curly one narrowed his eyes and pouted, “You acted as if you were going to murder a chunk of seagulls. I almost got my popcorns ready. Not impressive.”

“I don’t think murdering seagulls is legal? So I abandon the plan.” Zayn shrugged in respond. Harry was not satisfied with the answer. He took a quick peek at the football team and asked, “What did you tell him anyway?”

Zayn left the conversation into silence while trying to find a proper answer with his guilty pleasure. A moment later, he replied in a cheerful tone, “Something you’ve already known.”

✸

 

The class has already been over when they rushed back to the classroom. Before Zayn started to apologise, Mr. Schwaltz raised one hand to stop him from speaking.

“I told you,” the professor smiled at him, “books are the best bridge to connect people.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys!
> 
> A few weeks ago I encountered a bad experience and ended up living in the hospital for a long while. Even when I got home I was still in terrible mood and I was too lazy to turn on my laptop.
> 
> But when I finally logged in and read through all the comments I was so guilty for being selfish. I couldn't believe I literally left everyone behind and lied in my bed all day long. I have to apologise for this.
> 
> I really didn't expect anyone to enjoy this story. Y'all are so lovely and sweet. I wish I could go to Bob's store and buy all the candies with your names on for you. (but yeah according to Niall, you should do this by yourself!)
> 
> Lots love. x

Harry gave him a suspicious look as soon as they arrived the club. He raised his eyebrow and twisted his head aside, looking up at Zayn who was a little bit nervous about how to explain the situation. The noisy music was rocketing around them while there were only silence between their nearly-touched shoulders.

"Ok?" Harry shrugged, blinking a Zayn dazedly. "Are you ready to tell me why are you bringing me here?"

Zayn could hardly hear Harry under the clamour in the room. He leaned in closer that his lips almost pressed to Harry's ear, "To introduce you to my friends."

Harry's whirl was too fast that almost slapped Zayn on his cheek. The emerald eyes pinned on Zayn's face with a mixture of surprise, anger and panic. After a few seconds of hesitation, Harry mumbled in response. "I'm leaving."

"Fuck it, Harry!"

"No-seriously, what's the God damn point?!" Harry insisted on heading for the opposite direction while Zayn tried to block his way. He glared at Zayn and uttered irritably, "As if there's still someone who doesn't know the shit between us."

Zayn exhaled a frustrated sigh, seizing Harry's arm in case he ran away. Harry was right at this point. Due to those two girls who posted the photo of them making out in the courtyard on Facebook, along with people's made-up stories based on the drama during the British Literature class, Zayn had never been getting so much attention and harassment in his life. Harry always played it cool, but Zayn was pretty sure that he didn't feel any better than Zayn.

On the other hand, Niall was unexpectedly chilled at the news. "To be honest, dude," Niall thew up his hands as he swallowed his chips, "it's quite obvious."

Therefore, the life mode of sharing a room with Niall didn't really change, neither the regular party invitations. Till now Zayn still had no clue how to properly blend into the atmosphere in a crowded club with crazy beats of music where nobody was sober. Even so, he still enjoyed spending time with Niall and his companions. After all, he was indeed grateful for the friendship.

And he didn't want Harry to be out of the circle.

"I'm not doing this to show off, Harry." Zayn kept his voice calm, "I really do wish you can meet them. Trust me. It was not as awful as you suppose."

Harry didn't move. He lowered his head and murmured, "I can't do this."

"Well, you did on my case."

A flash of blush rushed over Harry's cheeks, "That was-"

"ZAAAAAYYYYNNNNN!!!!!!!!!"

Harry's protest was covered by a high-pitched exclaim right behind them. Before Zayn turned around, his back was smacked by someone else's chest that almost tripped him over. He reached his hand to Harry, trying to balance himself but was soon betrayed as Harry quickly stepped back to the surprise of this unexpected farce.

"I thought you were just joking, man!" Niall's voice exploded beside his ears, "You'd never asked to join our party before, how come-hey, you brought Harry here?"

Zayn got rid of Niall's arms around his throat, "Yeah," he gasped for airs and lowered his voice, "I don't think he has ever hung out with anyone else, so I'm wondering if you can...ugh..."

"Show him around?"

Zayn nodded slightly, "Something like that." As soon as he spotted the delighted expression in Niall's face, Zayn immediately added, "But please don't-"

Nevertheless Niall had already abandoned him and greeted to Harry, who was embarrassed with the whole atmosphere. "Hello! I'm Niall!" The Irish bloke opened his arms at Harry excitedly, "We've met before at a summer camp but you probably don't remember. Anyway, have you ever tried B52?"

"I-"

"COME WITH ME, YOU WON'T REGRET IT!"

Not giving Harry a chance to escape, Niall clenched Harry's arm abruptly and dived into the crowd. "See you later, Zayn!" He turned around and waved at Zayn before disappearing into distances with his new curly friend. Harry's eyes were full of panic and reluctance as he gazed at Zayn for help. Yet Zayn merely responded with a shrug.

After watching them fade away, Zayn pulled out a relieved sigh and made a way through the mussy dance floor to a less stressful corner. He tried to trace Harry and Niall under the vague lights, even though it was impossible for him to accomplish this mission.

A girl with a plate of Martini glasses stopped by and grinned at him. Zayn shook his head, but soon regretted it as she walked away with a disappointed pout. Zayn wanted to treat himself a few shots for the restless days he had been through ever since the encounter with Harry outside; on the other hand, he still considered to stay sober in case of any incident Harry might surprise him with once again.

"Heyyy," a brisk voice dropped behind Zayn, "I didn't expect to meet you here...alone?"

Zayn faced at that person and forced a queer smile. He didn't really know how to face Louis after their last conversation. The feeling was probably mutual because Louis was also sipping his empty cup absent-mindedly.

"Uhm, Harry is with Niall now."

"He is here? I thought you'd keep him away from places like this."

Zayn couldn't read through Louis' gloomy sapphire eyes. He couldn't tell whether Louis was rallying him or being serious. So he looked away and left their dialogue in silence.

Honestly, Zayn didn't hate Louis. Even though he had been jealous of Louis' confidence and his own attitude. He was the kind of people that Zayn had been trying to be, but also afraid to be. Louis was like the ocean, shining with the blue silk surface and containing with amazing treasures. However, the secrets hidden under the glorious cover were much more than what people had discovered. And the deeper they went, the darker the more parlous it appeared.

Harry was more like rain. He was more difficult to catch that sometimes Zayn could feel him slip away from his fingertips. Harry was either drizzle or thunderstorm. Sometimes he would be roving for a couple days and kept knocking and shaking the windows; sometimes he only stayed for a night, tapping leisurely on the leaves and flowers. It irritated Zayn everytime the sudden shower came down in the afternoon where he forgot to bring his umbrella along with him. But when he was rushing in the rain vexedly while the raindrop sliding down his spine, Zayn couldn't help but admitting that his body did crave the touching dancing upon his skin.

And it gave him bitters inside whenever recalling that Louis had tasted every raindrop like sipping a glass of sweet cider. Zayn tried not to think about how deep Harry and Louis had gone through each other, or whether Harry had ever yearned for Louis as much as Zayn did for him.

Louis was attempting to save the conversation, but Zayn soon slipped away into a bunch of people he had no idea with.

The temperature in the club was rising. The heavy air was pressing on Zayn’s chest that made him hardly breathe. He scanned the crowd to, seeking for Harry within all the tipsy figures. Zayn didn’t take a single sip of any drink, but the air was slowly injected into his veins, boiling his blood with a tipsy rhythm. Zayn tried to keep his path steady, but the loud music only made him even dizzier.

In the end he gave up on his mission, fleeing away before the rhythm knock him out. Zayn found a door in the corner covered under the glittering lights, pushing it open and let the breeze take over the tasteless air.

He blinked to adjust the street light and the sudden silence outside the house, leaning on the wall which still had the evidence of a rush shower left on it. Zayn reached his hand into his pocket. His fingertips soon sensed the touching from a cold metal. Zayn gave himself a guilty smile, slowly pulling it out of his pocket, lightening up a tiny warmth in the lonesome lane.

Zayn didn't like it when people described tobacco as an addiction. To him, it was more like a preference. It was the first shirt he would grab when he opened his wardrobe in the morning under a messy mind. It was not the best piece he owned. Probably not even matched his outfit of the day. But it was the one that made him feel like himself.

It's not because of the taste. What Zayn enjoyed the most was that he got to trace his breath through the smoke. Some people used cigarettes to daze themselves, but Zayn found it more efficient to stay clear in his cloud castle. There was a room for him. And he would be sitting in the middle, staring at the wall where he pasted all the memories. That was the place he never invited anyone in but his ego.

Zayn put the cigarette closer to his lips, but was soon distracted when the door was opened again. He raised his head absently, but almost dropped his cigarette when the person fell onto himself.

“ZA—A—AY—NNN—”

Zayn extended his arms to hold the unsteady body in a flurry, preventing the cigarette between his fingers from burning those curls. “What the hell, Ha—”

“There you areeeeeee.” The curly boy made an excited squeal, gazing at Zayn with his cheeks burning rosy red. Zayn frowned a little bit, watching Harry chuckling like a 5 year old. “Damn it, how many shots have you taken? Where is Niall?”

“Niall——!!” Harry made another exclaim again, “He’s such a…funny guy, isn’t he? Probably passed out on the stage now. Bahahaha.”

Zayn gave out a hopeless sigh, “You’re terribly drunk, Styles. Party’s over. Let’s go home.”

But Harry didn’t obey his order. He climbed up to wrap his arms around Zayn’s neck and pressed his chest against Zayn’s. “I’m not drunk! And I’mma give you a blowjob now.”

“What—WAIT!”

Zayn shoved Harry away immediately before those fingers around his nape reached his zip. Harry burst out in laughter and nearly tripped over. His back was hitting on the wall, but the whole body was still trembling delightedly. Zayn seized his wrist in case Harry started to do his drunk pirouette. He had to admit it was an irritating pleasant. He dragged Harry into the house again, shuttling through the dancing people and pushed Harry into a private box.

He pressed Harry down on the bar table, shutting the young boy’s annoying giggle with an impatient kiss. The taste of whiskey and tobacco were mixing together, exploding around their tongues. Zayn pulled Harry’s waist closer to thrust his body between Harry’s thighs. Harry made a victorious moan. He nipped Zayn’s lips to slow down the tempo, but Zayn didn’t offer any mercy for Harry to breathe. Harry pricked his nails on Zayn’s skin as a protest, even though it didn’t really work.

“You taste like fire.” Harry panted and laughed after Zayn finally gave him a break. His green eyes were sparkling like the bubbles above the beer. He couldn’t seem to control his overflowed happiness, still snickering as he supported himself up from the table.

“Can you stop smirking like a girl on her first date?” complained Zayn, which only made Harry laugh louder. “So did she…the girl you…shared your first time with, act the same way?” Harry asked with a naughty smile.

“I told you, it was awful.” Zayn blamed himself for revealing this story to Harry, “The whole prom night was horrible. That was the worst way to end someone’s teenage romance…speaking of that, how was your prom night?”

He regretted the question as soon as he saw Harry’s beam faded slightly, “I didn’t attend it.”

That was tragically obvious. Zayn looked away in guilt as he tried not to wonder what's the reason. Harry shrugged with a little cute burp, “Well, it's not really a big deal. I'm a terrible dancer.”

With a few seconds of hesitation, Zayn stepped forward and pulled Harry up from the bar table. Harry was surprised and confused by his action. He glanced at his hands held by Zayn, stuttering unsurely, “What...what...”

“Just take it as a late prom.”

Harry pouted reluctantly. The flush on his cheeks was getting deeper. “I don’t even know how to-”

“Does it matter? You never follow the rules.” Zayn smiled.

Harry didn't answer. But he still began to spin slowly along with Zayn. The music outside the room was not their best choice to carry out this amateur dance, plus Harry's tipsy steps were really hard to follow. Yet these didn't spoil the fascination of their totally off-tempo waltz. Harry started to giggle again. This time Zayn didn't nag about it.

Without awareness of how long the time had passed, all they did was keep swinging around the floor quietly. Zayn locked his fingers with Harry's tightly, as if his dance partner would disappear once he loosed his hand.

He closed his eyes, recalling the night where everyone was gathering in the hall in their pretentious suit. He was standing on the stairs, waiting nervously for his partner to show up. His parents were at a distance, waving at him with an encouraging smile. Zayn nodded clumsily. Somewhere in his mind, there was a voice telling him things were going to be wrong. He couldn't get rid of this inexplicable panic, despite that it was the day he had been well-prepared. His collar was making him itchy resulted from the air-con which was out of order. The other people had gradually joined the dance floor, except for him who was still sweating hopelessly at the same spot. And he was probably going to stand there till forever. The fear of disappointment ascended his body like creepers and vines climbing on the old broken windows. Maybe he should turn around, escaping from this breathless area before everyone found out that the person he waited would never show up. He lowered his head, giving the last look to the crowd before he walked away. However, his vision was blocked at the moment. He looked up suspiciously. Right there in front of his wide opened eyes, it was no one but—

“Ugh...H-Harry...?”

The unexpected weight in Zayn's embrace threw him back from the memory. Zayn nearly fell over as Harry dropped his whole body onto Zayn. The heat of Harry's heat tapped on Zayn's collarbones like the touch of waves. Zayn frowned when he noticed Harry's eyes were closed.

“Excuse-Harry, Harry? Are you serious...”

But Harry was fast asleep in his arms, with one hand still resting on Zayn's shoulder. Zayn stared at the trouble maker who was happily in his dream, relieving for the decision that he didn't let Harry suck his dick at that time.

For a moment Zayn just kept holding Harry in his arms without a single move. He closed his eyes, tracing back to the garden where he experienced his first night. But this time it was not Nadia who led his way. Zayn was trotting behind as the willows brushing his hair softly. The wind was pushing him forward with his rising heartbeat.

And then it started raining. That was something not belonging to the scene. Yet Zayn had been familiar with it. The garden had vanished and his suit was covered with raindrops and dirt. He didn't feel pity for them. There could be thousands of garden in his lifetime, but there would only be one figure dancing in the shower with him, yelling out his name until they were so close that voice was not necessary anymore.

He left a kiss on Harry's forehead.


	20. Chapter 20

When Harry stumbled along the wall into the room, it had already been past noon. Zayn raised his head from the canvas, catching Harry’s sight through his glasses. Harry’s ailing face was especially distinct behind those lenses. The hangover boy pouted in fatigue, staggering toward Zayn and kneeling down to recline his head against Zayn’s thighs.

“Y’alright?” Zayn smirked, tapping on Harry’s head fondly.

“Could’ve been better.” The younger boy mumbled, leaning closer for Zayn to pet his cheek, “Haven’t been drinking in ages. Your friend is a crazy dude.”

Zayn chuckled, “what did you guys do?”

“Ugh, I’m not even sure.” Harry shrugged and supported himself up, “He kept shouting and yelling all the time, bursting out some words that I had no idea if those were proper English… Anyway, he grabbed a glass for me and suggested me to take at least one shot…” he frowned and blushed slightly, “…and then I don’t remember.”

He hid his awkward face by rushing into the kitchen as Zayn laughed out loud relentlessly, “If you’re curious: you came to me, completely drunk, and said something interesting…like, _really_ interesting.”

Harry’s head popped out of the door before he finished filling his glass. He ignored the water that he spilled on the floor and blinked his eyes quickly, “Huh. For example?” But Zayn didn’t answer, whistling and keeping on his artwork. Harry creased his brows, biting his lips and whispering, “and…what happened afterward?”

“What else was supposed to happen? You passed out a few minutes later. Or how do you think you got home safely?” Zayn bent over and picked up his water bottle. When he sits still again, what presents in front of him is Harry’s shocked face.

“You did _nothing_?”

“What do you expect me to—”

“Like,” Harry stopped him by pushing away Zayn’s hand that was still holding the pen and interrupted into Zayn and the canvas, “you just called a cab, sending us home, throwing me into the bed and going to sleep?”

Zayn laughed confusedly, “I didn’t ‘throw’ you into the bed, but pretty close.”

Harry let out a deprecating groan, wrapping his arms around Zayn’s neck and climbing onto Zayn’s lap. “Har—” Zayn needed to drop his pen and held Harry’s waist in case they both fell over. Harry lowered his head, resting his chin against Zayn’s collarbones. Zayn could feel Harry’s heat right below his jaw.

“Zayn,” Harry breathed, “you could have done something _else_.” Zayn couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine the teasing smirk on his face. He pecked Harry’s ear tenderly and smiled when he felt the tremble around his neckline. “I am a gentleman, Styles.” Zayn smiled, “nothing’s gonna happen when you ain’t sober.”

He lifted Harry’s chin up with one finger, ending the argument before Harry complained again. His lips pressed against Harry’s, locking Harry’s satisfied moan between their tongues. Zayn pushed his body forward to balance themselves, but Harry refused to give in. He cupped Zayn’s chin, holding back Zayn’s strength as if he was going to squeeze out all the air between their chests. Zayn moved his fingers into Harry’s hair, trying to get back the dominance of the kiss. Harry made a whimper as he felt the pain. So he changed his strategy, traveling his hands down to Zayn’s crotch.

Zayn frowned and stopped immediately, “umm baby.”

“You haven’t touched me since forever.” Harry whispered with a tempting smile.

“Well I am now.” Zayn groped underneath Harry’s shirt. The boy started giggling. “You know what I meant.” Harry rumbled and wriggled his body as he felt Zayn’s fingers dancing upon his skin.

“I’m gotta get my work done, Harry.”

“Or,” Harry countered with an impatient eye-roll, “you can do _me_ instead.”

There wasn’t much time for Zayn to react. Harry shut Zayn with his lips again while unbutton his own shirt quickly. He stopped to take a breath, throwing Zayn’s glasses away so he could move forward for a deeper and rougher kiss. When Zayn opened his eyes, Harry’s shirt had already slid down his forearms. Harry released him from the grip with a pettish voice, “You sure you don’t want this?”

Zayn caressed Harry’s swallows’ tattoos with his lips, “If you promise to not be annoying this time.”

“It could work, if you keep my mouth busy.”

With a playful laugh, Zayn stood up abruptly and almost knocked his canvas over. Harry’s arms were around him as they were making out and stumbling to the bed. Not giving Harry a chance to sit up, Zayn pushed him down to the duvet. Zayn’s palm pressed on Harry’s left shoulder, while the other hand unzipped Harry’s jeans.

“Raw me.” Harry panted. Zayn smiled and crawled forward to give him a kiss before pulling his pants down. “Easy, baby.” He hissed as Harry tossed him a peevish look. Zayn tried not to pay attention to Harry’s naked body in case he couldn’t help but going too fast. He wanted to play it slow. The day was still young.

They kissed for a few more times until their cheeks sore. And then Zayn went lower from Harry’s chest to his belly button. Harry gasped and twisted his hips when he felt Zayn’s warmth between his legs. But Zayn hesitated. He raised his head at Harry with a flush on his face.

“Well um… I-I’ve never done this before.” Zayn blinked and stuttered nervously.

Harry supported his body up. Confusion was in his eyes for a second. “Oh right. I was the first guy you fucked. Should I be honoured?” He laughed in reply, but his smile disappeared soon. “Look. You don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Stop. I want to do this. With _you_.” Zayn protested, wrapping his hand around Harry’s length. “Now lie down because I don’t want you to look at me, ok? I mean-I mean you did it so well. If I can’t make you cum just pretend it never happens.”

Harry giggled and winked, “Please. You’re making me hard already.”

“C’mon. Just lie down and promise you won’t look.”

“All yours, your highness.” Harry laughed and rested his head back to the pillow, “Do you want to blindfold me? I may come faster.”

“God. Why won’t you just shut up once when we have sex?”

“You say like we have sex a lot.”

“And you wonder why we don’t.”

That successfully stopped Harry from talking. He pouted his mouth while gripping the edges of the pillow. Zayn snickered and nipped the inner part of Harry’s thigh and made his body shudder. He took a glance at Harry one last time, making sure he’s not staring. And then he took him into his mouth.

Harry wheezed a little “uh” when Zayn’s tongue touched his top. Zayn convinced himself not to think about what was that for. He tried to recall everything Harry did when he gave him head last time. But all he could remember was how gentle and smooth Harry’s skill was. He supposed imagining Harry sucking him didn’t really help because he’s probably harder than Harry now. Zayn did it slowly. He wasn’t quite sure how to avoid his teeth from hurting Harry.

When Harry let out another groan, Zayn had nearly put all of him in. Zayn prayed that it meant he did it all right, even though it wasn’t the best timing to pray. So Zayn went a little bit faster, using his lips and tongue to stimulate Harry’s boner. Harry curved his spine and gasped loudly as Zayn moved deeper. Zayn swirled his tongue, focusing on the licking so the pain in his tight jeans wouldn’t distract him.

“Zayn—Zayn.” Harry was literally sobbing, “‘M’gonna.”

Zayn was expecting Harry to jerk into his throat, but it seemed like he didn’t want to be harsh for Zayn’s first blowjob. So when Harry came out of blue he wasn’t even ready to either spit or swallow. His eyes were full of tears when he choked on it with a series of cough.

“I’m sorry.” Harry concerned and sat up, but Zayn pressed him down. “S’fine.” Zayn gulped and managed a smile, “You tasted fantastic.”

“Enough bullshit.” Harry blushed and buried his face into Zayn’s chest. Zayn smirked and turned Harry over as he took off his clothes too. He clenched Harry’s waist to leave more hickeys on his nape. Harry closed his eyes and moaned along Zayn’s hand tracing down to his hipbones. He grasped the sheet with a louder whine when he felt Zayn’s fingers inside him. Zayn inserted more in a graceful pace, soothing Harry’s pain with kisses on his shoulder blades.

“Fuck.” Harry huffed in sobs, “at least use lube.”

Zayn laughed ruthlessly, extending his spared hand to the cabinet beside the bed. But then a loud ring interrupted his action.

“Seriously?” Harry opened one of his eyes with a frown.

“It’s mine.” Zayn recognised his Pink Floyd ringtone, “I bet it’s Niall. He probably just wakes up and needs someone to buy him aspirins.”

“You’re not gonna pick it up?”

“Not when I’m about to nut in you.” Zayn whispered into his ears, chuckling while putting on the condom as Harry grumbled and hid his face in the pillow. Zayn chuckled and entered his fingers with lube this time. Harry exhaled out loud, puffing along with Zayn’s moves. He nipped his bottom lip, twisting his body in hope of hurrying whatever Zayn was doing. But Zayn still hadn’t done with enjoying his reaction.

“Just come inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Language, Styles.” Zayn gave him a teasing spank in reply. Harry rolled his eyes, with his cheek burning rosy pink. “ _Please_ ,” he squeezed his word reluctantly.

Zayn pulled out his fingers with a winner’s grin, “As you wish, love.”

He pressed his palm on Harry’s lower back, lifting his bottom up to where he could meet the entrance. It was not like they had never tried this before, but when Zayn shoved in, he still shivered like a teenaged boy having his first time. He could feel the goosebumps over his arms as he watched himself sink into Harry’s body. Harry made a wail, an actual wail that made Zayn worry if he used enough lube. His hands were sweating that he could barely hold Harry steadily.

“Baby you good?”

“Are you kidding me,” Harry babbled with a dry voice, “Hell no, destroy me.”

Zayn laughed and budged his knees to adjust the position, thrusting harder and faster. He tried to contain himself every time he heard Harry weeping. His legs shook and he almost lost it when Harry cried out “God damn it”. Zayn knew he wouldn’t last too long. It was kind of embarrassing because he just wanted Harry to feel satisfied.

“Zayn, Zayn.” Harry moaned his name again. And it was not helping.

“I’m close, baby.” Zayn reassured, trying to catch his breath.

“Me too.” Harry begged, “Please. Please. I can’t do it. Finish me.”

It was like a trigger. Zayn couldn’t even force himself to hold it longer. So he came as he gulped for airs. His whole body quaked when he slowly tugged himself out. Harry flopped down on the sheet while panting hastily. He crossed his arms above his forehead, puffing and beaming at Zayn, who was also smiling at him breathlessly.

“Come here.” Harry reached up his hand. Zayn interlocked their fingers together, lying down next to him. He embraced Harry with another arm, kissing on his eyelids tenderly. Harry giggled and snuggled to his neck.

“I love you.” They burst into laughter when they mumbled to each other at the same time.

✹

Harry narrowed his eyes as he watched Zayn covered his canvas with a piece of cloth. He sat in the bed with a pillow in his arms, muttering with a questioning look, “I’m not allowed to see it?”

“It’s a surprise. You will get to see it eventually.”

“No spoilers?” Harry tried to persuade him with his sparkle eyes. Zayn smiled and cradled Harry’s chin for a kiss, “No spoilers. But I swear you will be the first one to see it. Deal?”

Harry didn’t really approve the idea. But he still compromised after Zayn bribed him with another kiss. “Deal.” Zayn patted his head with a laugh, and then bent over to pick up his phone in his bag. His smile faded a little.

“Who was that?” Harry rubbed his eyes.

“Niall, as I thought.” Zayn answered curtly, shoving his phone into his pocket immediately. “You hungry? It’s almost 2 but we can still find something to eat if you want.”

“Hmm I suddenly can’t move.” Harry shrugged and lounged back to his bed, tossing the pillow to Zayn. “Who’s gonna be my hero and get Denny’s for me? I’m starving.”

Zayn sighed fondly, “You spoiled kid.”

“Love you too!”

He raised the pillow, pretending to smash it onto Harry’s face. Eventually he grabbed his bag and stood up, “Do not peek at my canvas when I’m gone. Promise? I will know it if you do.”

“I want pizza for dinner.”

“We’re having Denny’s for lunch, stay healthy.”

“No pizza no promise.” Harry put a finger in front of his lips.

“You are fucking ridiculous.”

“Language, Malik.”

Zayn shook his head exhaustedly while Harry swung a peace sign in the air, “Fine, you win. See you later, little princess.”

He walked out of the room and closed the door, making his way to the stairway. As he reached the last case, he turned around to make sure it was far enough from being heard by Harry. And then he fumbled his phone in the bag, tapping on the missed call from half an hour ago.

“Hey, mum.”


End file.
